Monday, February 28, 2005

Put Your Behind In Your Past

Yesterday, I visited with some close high school friends, that I haven't seen in a while. I get to see my good buddy Adam about once a year (maybe) since he moved to California to become rich and famous. Or maybe just to get a job playing video games. Who knows. We visited a mutual friend, who has young monkeys now as well. It's surreal to see everybody as a grown up.

They are trying to get me to attend the ten year high school reunion later this year. I've never been one for school spirit. I think probably because everything required money and I wasn't motivated enough to try and get some. I'm actually not in the yearbook because I didn't want to bother with the annoyance of having to pay for a senior photo. Among other things. There are some people I would like to see again. Maybe. But for the same reasons I wouldn't show up I'm not sure they would either. I'm still vacillating on the idea. It's also relatively expensive for a weekend of possibly utter boredom. It's not even an excuse to get away on a vacation since it's local.

I did make an impression, however, that may make it slightly confusing for anyone who knew me back then. So I'll probably have to walk around with a sign and prepared statement to hand out. Hmmmm, I suppose I should explain a bit. I was engaged once, before my wife, in my senior year to my high school sweetheart. It was quite a public proposal in fact and I went over-the-top-romantic in pulling it off (Yeah, I suck). It was all good and then the shell shock of living outside my rabbit's den hit me. We went to colleges at an unacceptable distance from each other and, by no fault of hers, everything fell apart. It ended amicably (at least I think it did, you'd think a guy would learn...). We still talk every now and then. After that, I over-stressed, broke down, dropped out, wandered home, weaved in and out of limbo, and reemerged as a human being again to marry someone who as it turned out went to our high school but not the individual anyone had expected.

Of the friends I've told now about recent happenings, some have responded with "Well it's about frickin' time!" and some with "Really? Ah, well that makes sense now..." I question the perception that if it was so painfully obvious before why the hell didn't anyone dare to ask me if I was, in fact, gay? Not even a teasing accusation, but then who knows what the stabbing pain in my back was all about. Only once did my dad venture to try, who was the absolute wrong person to get me to admit anything, and his request was out of a fit of lonely paranoia. I'm positive it drove me further into the closet. He even asked my wife if my sole intention of getting hitched was just an escape route from his house. Guess I threw more than a few kinks in some theories when I was actually genuinely happy to get married. Confused yet? I sure was.


Saturday, February 26, 2005

Into The Blogosphere, Part 1

I finally have a few moments to do this and I'm feeling good today (and I don't have anything else to blog about) so here are some shout outs to some lives you should invade if you haven't already. There are quite a few that have kept me interested in writing my own by reading theirs. I'd like to spread the love to everybody in the sidebar but that would be one gigantic post. Plus I've got some more fine blogs to add... So we'll call this Part 1 (in no particular order):

See Kyle Draw
The first blog that yanked my attention and enticed me into reading regularly many months ago. I'm also a sucker for pretty colors. Buy his paintings!

Ridiculous Raw Youth
The first blog to link (or should that be "out") me. He also helped me get through the initial coming out experience probably more than he realizes. Thanks, Sir.

Search For Love in Manhattan
The more I read the more I wanted to keep reading. Faustus can write my biography any day. Or my obituary whichever comes first.

Stop Touching My Food.
I always thought maybe I'm a long lost California native. Chad makes me want to take a trip out west.

Sardonic Bomb
On the way to Cali I would love to hang out with Scott and his impeccable taste in men. I'd like to take his picture too.

Perpetually pleasant pop culture commentary and life in DC. And he wrote an ode to his penis.

The Travling Spotlight
It's gay neurosis slipping some tongue to stand-up comedy. Patrick always makes me laugh out loud.

Why aren't there more girls on this list? I know they are out there. But they have to live up to Madam Tuna. And she's got monkeys about the same age as mine.

Hot Toddy's Toaster Oven
Yes, I too have been sucked into Toddy's inescapable vortex of words and wit (and the occasional wet willie?).

Articulatory Loop
Michael's got a relationship with food and health and other matters of intrigue that I can only aspire to.

More to come!


Thursday, February 24, 2005

Fun with Noodles

We just got the CD player fixed in the car so on the way home from the gym the boys were jamming to a soundtrack that had to do with a talking cucumber superhero with suction cups on his head, an entourage of backup singers for his theme song and an asparagus butler. You do the math. They dig the remix versions best. So henceforth (or at least for the rest of this post) Monkey No. 2 shall be known as Gee-B Real in honor of his groovability in the car. Picture that head bop motion from those SNL Roxbury guys, an extreme pouty lip coupled with a full body bounce to the beat but all while strapped into a car seat. And I think the moniker of J-Dawg would probably best suit Monkey No. 1. Because he was barking most of the time.

My wife went out for the night with some friends for the first time in...a very long time. It's good for her to get away. She left a note with kisses for all her boys. Cause she's sweet like that. :)

Now they are eating organic macaroni and cheese. Which is what my legs currently feel like. X-man piled on the pain today at the gym. But then again that's what I pay him for.


Wednesday, February 23, 2005

Mojo Madness

I still have a sweeping sense of sadness that floods over me at any given moment. It's hard when you are happy one second and then staring off into space the next. This relationship is really going to end, but I doubt it won't sink in until I wake up in an empty house. I will miss being around my wife's sweet spirit and warmth to keep me company at night. If anything, we feel comfortable with each others presence and I believe we still are even now. There's nothing wrong with sharing a life with your best friend. It's the addiction to the daily routine that we'll have to get over.

I was thinking of infusing a little more of my identity with the blog now that it's probably a little safer but I am concerned that people will read only hoping that it will eventually take a turn for...the sexual. If you are looking to satisfy your voyeuristic urges by mapping out every event my private parts partake of, then I'm afraid you've come to the wrong place. Out of respect to my wife, I will not broadcast my past, present or future sexual encounters here. I expect to have the occasional crush now and then, but doing the deed is entirely different. I don't believe I've been extremely explicit and I don't intend to start now. There you have it. The rule as of now. So don't ask. You're reading this on the internet for god's sake, so go find some porn.

If you must know, I'll be surprised if I am intimate again with anyone until the far future. I have enough to contend with before I can even think about going that route. I've dated a total of two people in my lifetime and it took me months to even get the point of feeling like a "boyfriend". Yeah, so they were with girls and we all know the explanation for why those didn't work out. It's quite simple. Being out (of the closet and from commitment) now does not entitle me the right to run around with my fly open. That's just stupid. I am a father and a friend first. I still need to provide for my family even though we won't be under the same roof. This has never changed.


Tuesday, February 22, 2005

Leveling the Field

The situation hasn't changed all that much. It's been rough. At times I feel like I have a chord tied to my ankles and I'm being flung up and down without any control as to where I'll land. The only thing keeping me from rocketing off into the atmosphere is my wife. She's a trooper. To the chagrin of both of us, it seems as though some people around us want to move things along at warp speed, as if it's a life and death matter to "rescue" my wife from the clutches of my influence. I'm probably just too close to what's going on but I can't help feel that's been the major point of contention. There are now also some crazy notions flying around. If anyone can direct me to the "secret savings account" that apparently I've got stashed away (because you know it only makes sense that I plan on being a major ASS about this) please let me know. I could use the funds about now. How do I convince you that I'm still the same nervous, slightly perfectionist, workaholic with empty pockets and aching heart that you knew before! Just with an update to the flawed operating system.


In the meantime, I'm doing the best I can in the rest of my life. My monkeys are keeping my spirits up, although Monkey No. 1 has been having some major rebellious streaks. Of course, I can't help but think events must be affecting him but I'm hoping it's just the normal suck factor of having to go to bed instead of getting to play video games and watch movies until his brain oozes out his retinas. I'm such an ogre that way. Monkey No. 2 just wants to be standing on his head. All the time. At least someone has their priorities straight.

I do have a renewed concentration on my tasks at work. Which is a good thing as we are about to enter into a major project that will likely take the next two years or so to see through to completion. My place of employment is really a family away from home. I've been there six+ years, my bosses are great and I couldn't ask for a more enjoyable set of people to work with. I do have a lot of freedom there per say and I'm well aware that there are some out there that would tell me to snap out of my funk simply because of what I do for a living. However, as with the rest of my scattered psyche, I see myself moving on eventually. One of the guys is leaving us in about a week, so I decided to make lunch for the company as a a parting gift. Thank goodness for tasty diversions.


Friday, February 18, 2005

At the Foot of the Mountain

My father is a very sad soul. My greatest fear with him has always been that I would disappoint him. That he wouldn't think he was a good example as a man. He kept telling me that wasn't the words to describe what he was feeling but couldn't think of how to articulate it. Eventually he told me he feels dead about most things in his life, that he doesn't know what is the right way to think about his faith anymore. He struggles in his Christian faith and beliefs in God more than anyone else I know. Like fighting a demon that has his arms pinned together, I know this has just ripped open his veins and poured some vile acid inside. He wants me to reconsider what I'm thinking. Am I sure? How do I know? I've broken his spirit completely.

I don't know what to say to him. When I am sad I simply shut down. I need to function. If I don't function I now know I can't be of any use to anyone, least of all myself. So which would you rather have in your life, a miserable wretch trudging through quicksand or somebody who smiles frequently, genuinely and has a zeal for life.

I found out his wife (that would make her my stepmom but I've tried to avoid the Cinderella terminology) had two brothers that were gay, one died of AIDS the other in a car crash. I hadn't any idea. I imagine this will be even more difficult for her.

I've noticed the progression that generally happens now. First it's shock, then sometimes tears, then confusion, and sometimes a bit of anger doubled by deep sadness. The last part is what I am seeing the most of in family now. There's not so much resentment but a purveying shadow that seems to be growing by the minute. I'm trying to keep the sorrow from taking hold on me. To show weakness in my resolve now would be the worst thing I could do. I don't know where I'm pulling this energy from, but it's like sticking a needle in my eye to see so many people I care about let down all at once. It takes a lot to get me to hate anything. I know that they do care because they react, but I truly hate that it's going to be this way for quite a while.

I talked to my mom-in-law on the phone today. I could tell she was having a rough time speaking to me. They are watching my kids tonight. Her sister and mom came from out of town when they heard about this, to make sure my wife is okay, and because there is a little anger happening. This takes every expectation I had about how this and that person might react and thrown it out the window.

Monkey No. 1 came up to mommy yesterday and said "It's different." She asked what was different. "Mommy and Daddy are different." She asked if he was scared. "No, just different." We made sure to tell him that we love him and we are both there for him. Kids have far more perceptive abilities than we realize.

I think I am done telling all those who need to know. Let the fires spread as they may for a while and we'll see what's left when the smoke clears.


Dear Dad

Roses are Red
Violets are blue
One of us is gay
And I'm not talking about you.
--- Love your Son.

Thanks for that, David, I needed it.

Once more into the brink, trying not to crash too hard.


Wednesday, February 16, 2005


Wow. One thing I never expected was to be accused of being a fiction writer. I suppose without actually being here to see the real interactions, there isn't much to be done about that. It's a little irritating since I am trying to get out of the quagmire of being deceptive. Management requests that all questions be held for the end of the tour.

Sorry to disappoint all you blog junkies (of which I now know there are A LOT) but I don't have anything all that sensationalist to report. Yesterday was quite rough but we're doin' OK. And it is MY blog after all. It's my human flaw. Otherwise what's the point in writing it down. Deal.

We will be separating. No two ways around it. Reality has set in. Her two conflicting minds have started to reconcile. This was the reaction I was bracing for in my initial confrontation. The flash of shock has worn off and logic has started it's course. She told me she felt like Dorothy and the Wicked Witch in the same body. One side wants to just go home and have us all live happily ever after and the other wants to hate me for what I've done. I had to take off work yesterday to settle things down. She talked to her parents in the evening. On her way to talk to them, I could tell by her goodbye that a resolution was drawing near but wasn't sure exactly to what degree. After a lingering hour of paralysis later, she came home. And to her senses as well. While I can't agree with the fundamental belief she was raised with, the one that nailed down the lid for so long on my identity, I am glad that she has something to stand by. Now that the curtains have been drawn, guess that makes me the Wizard.

Sorry if I make anyone nauseous but those "Movie of the Week" moments have to come from somewhere.

We do make good monkeys. They bounce well. I can't tell if they know something is up or not. The shift is now to make sure they are well taken care of. I'm going to be giving so many wedgies and upside down backflips I hope they'll be sick of me too. :)


Monday, February 14, 2005

The Aftermath

While I had one of the seemingly best days of my life, my wife consequently had one of the worst. I don't want to give the impression that it was all a bowl of cherries. I checked on her throughout the day to to see how she was. She was good this morning. Then she asked to read this blog. And then it got worse. All of her conflicting emotions came tumbling out. So currently we are in more of a holding pattern. She's really confused. Rightly so. I can't blame her. I wish there was something more I could do for her right now besides almost making her hurl her lunch, but I'm trying to figure out what the next step should be myself.

She has her doubts about how it's going to work, since she's never heard any success stories of situations such as this working out for the long haul. I guess I haven't either for that matter. Neither of us wants to be the selfish one and we both still respect each other so there is an unintentional and emotional tug-of-war going on. She wants to be around me, but doesn't at the some time. She will probably need to see someone outside of this whole situation to talk about it all. You may now address all rotten vegetables and biological weapons to my attention.

Still, she's relieved that I don't have a lover and didn't decide to reveal this on the Jerry Springer Show. Talk about a nightmare.

I've had a few comments about why I chose to do this on Valentine's Day. I probably ticked off quite a few people because of it. The short answer: If not now, then when? Ten years from now when it'll just be that much worse? This day is still just another global rotation, like any other day. I should think, it would be a time for realizations and reflections about love more than simply saturating your sweetie with sugar coated condolences. I'd rather devote my time to something like this instead.

On a happier note, the monkeys are at large. Monkey No. 1 had a valentines exchange at school today. While I'm not keen on the amount of sugar that will be bandied about, there is something nostalgic in the tactile sensation of opening envelopes and colorful paper and your name in scrawled ink that can make you feel, well, downright special. My mom-in-law works at an elementary school and taught first grade for a while. She brought up the observation that obviously while there is candy, her classes really loved the idea of exchanging cards the most. How many times does a 6 year old get 20+ pieces of mail at one time. It's a virtual jackpot! So in this respect, I'm happy to let him enjoy it if only to stretch some creative muscles and appreciate the value of writing physical letters.


Sweet Release

I confess, I do not know where to begin.

Take any impossible and sad story you've heard about a husband and wife, tie it to a bungee chord and throw it off the edge without a safety net. I hate heights and last night, I faced one of my worst fears. The mother of them all. The initial silence was the longest horrifying rumble that shook me to the core. But, low and behold, the chord sprung back and took me to a new place. I'm alive and still deeply entrenched in love. Many tears and a very long talk later, then a few kisses and an embrace, we fell asleep in the same bed keeping each other warm as we had so many nights before.

Without exception, this feeling of pure unbridled redemption flows from the fact that I am married to the most amazing person I have ever met. If there is proof in restoring faith in humankind, let it be this woman. She is my best friend and that is the way it will stay. I love my wife. And there's nothing anyone can do about it. In the universal struggle between lust and love, for me, the latter has emerged unfettered to proclaim it's victory.

The future will always be unstable. You can't prepare for what's coming. If you think you can you are delusional. No one is safe from tragedy and the crumbling, rocks on that path before you are at times cruel companions. You can encase yourself in miles of bubble wrap and delight in other forms of soft, cushy padding and all you'll discover is that in the end, is you've suffocated after it invades your lungs like a parasite. My wish for you is that along with those gut wrenching moments you've got somebody waiting on the other end of the teeter-totter, to propel you back into the air. In my case, I didn't realize who I had staring me right in the face the entire time.

As with any high, one of my fears did come true. My brain is now clear, but now into hers I've dumped an entire lifetime of foreign notions. In a sense, we've reversed roles. She's trying to keep afloat. At this point, I can only ask her so much if she is OK. I can tell she's still reeling. She needs some room to breathe.

Oh yeah, and wild, naked dancing monkeys will probably help, we've got a couple of those, too.

We are sticking it out for the duration. The top priority now, is to stay together. For all intents and purposes, our situation is not changing. I am determined that this will make us an even stronger team than before. We will be a family under one roof and take the hits as they keep coming. But just try and stop us. I dare you. She says "Hi" by the way. :)

Since everybody needs a little love on V-Day and I am in a giving mood, go here immediately and smile.


Saturday, February 12, 2005

On The Brink

My mom rocks. I don't know why I was worried about telling her. Correction, I do know. If my writing seems sufficient enough, then inversely my speech suffers at times. Especially in the form of confessionals and explanations. I'm simply not adept at self defense utilizing rhetoric and words. Essentially, I haven't ever HAD to defend myself that way. My actions usually speak for themselves.

She recalled when I was in high school we watched a movie called The Sum Of Us (I believe it had Russell Crowe in it). It was about a young gay man and his straight dad each looking for respective mates. I had become severely flustered and fidgety while watching it, and when the romantic scenes came about, I promptly feigned that I needed to be somewhere else in a hurry. I had forgotten about that. It's a prime example of my forced rejection of "that kind" of lifestyle for the first 25 years or so of my life. Maybe I'll go find that movie now and watch it on purpose.

My sis is great to. She's the kind of soul that will give you a hug and kick your butt all in the same moment. Yes, I got beat up by my little sister. Frequently. Man, could she bite. And scratch. But, I don't have any battle scars to speak of so I was just being a big baby. I despised fighting back anyway. The women in my life are all significantly stronger than I am. Even at their low points, they still have the gumption to help me on my path.

I've told a few close friends at work now as well. I'm discovering that there is nothing to be afraid of. The fear is slowly being dispersed.

It's the rest of the family I have to watch out for. I haven't told anyone yet who has inherent adverse reactions to such things. My dad will be the most difficult. Even harder than my wife. And I've come to be extremely close with her family. My mom and dad-in-law are two of the most amazing people I know. They are all compassionate enough, but that sense of compassion is coupled with a strong sense of life long, faith based responsibility. I don't think I need to explain to visitors here how easy it is to get on the bad side of individuals who lose themselves in narrow-minded diatribes.

I can feel it creeping up. It's going to pounce with the ferocity of a caged cat. I feel like Atreyu about to confront the Morg. It's following me at a breath's distance and the feral air is making my muscles cringe. At this same time last week, I had not even an inkling I'd be attempting this. I was content to be swept away by the Nothing. By this time next week, maybe I'll be able to see the gleam from the Ivory Tower.

I've been reminded that Monday is Valentine's Day. Screw your courage to the sticking place. So to speak. That's all I have to say about that.


Friday, February 11, 2005


I tried to sleep last night and instead my eyes felt like they were being held open with some sort of Clockwork Orange kind of contraption. I am exhausted. Somehow I'm still awake. But I can't think about anything else. I may as well not even be at work today. It's quite impossible to concentrate on anything else.

I came out, officially, to one of my best friends last night. We had lived together as roommates in college. He had already known these thoughts had been swirling around in the ether, but was never certain where or how I was drifting through them at any given time. He's the easiest person to confide in and the most brutally honest. He was my first major crush. He was my best man at my wedding. The perfect balance of realistic empathy, bitter sarcasm, with the resolve of a humble sage. I miss him. But I love him now as my brother and we hashed it it like brothers do.

I am a control freak. This, I have always known. Yesterday's events and discussions cemented that firmly to the forefront of my vision. I am a narcissist. I waste time practicing my lines to sound the right way. How deplorable. How trite. I am not a man. I'm a whimpering, little boy in the guise of some aging vessel. I never grew up. I never wanted to.

For all my high ideals I desire to strive for, these things in my life nullify them. It is a fairy tale concocted by a shiftless dreamer like myself to actually want to live completely in the service of others. This is all that I want. But isn't that a contradiction in itself? Again with what I want. Where do I draw the line between emotion and logic? The word "I" appears way too much in this post already.

I can't disclose the finite details of my sordid living station here. I don't expect you to qualify what I'm doing simply based on what I write. I must emphasize that I exist this way because of the mounting circumstances that keep adding to the pressure to remain hidden. I am sorry that it seems so incredibly deceptive. I only ever meant for this to be an outlet of my thoughts, so I could concentrate on the basic necessities of food, shelter and the daily grind. I've always believed in sacrifice and honesty and I haven't been able to get the formula to make the two mix.

I've said before I am an instigator. My foolhardy grand designs rarely work out as planned. My responsibility now lies not only in rectifying the disservice I have done to my wife, but I can't justify dropping the bomb without some kind forward thinking about recovery in it's wake. Give me all the dissertations on feminism you'd like. I have full confidence that she would would go and live her days as the independent woman she is. That spirit is what has kept us together for so long. It does come down to survival. In order to simply function, to breathe and keep our kids safe and happy. If it wasn't that way, I'd be out in heartbeat.

I did not want to admit that I was gay when I entered into my agreement of marraige. I thought it was wrong. I thought I could make it go away. I thought I was superman. I had youth and vitality on my side which has now become a deflated subversion of it's former self. Make no mistake, I am not ashamed that I am gay now. I am extremely frightened, plain and simple. But I will not pull a Dubya and enter into battle without an exit strategy. Sorry. Chalk it up to my growing list of selfish priorities.

I probably won't post for a few days. Life is about to get much more complicated than I ever imagined it would. Maybe after some sleep...I can't think anymore.


Thursday, February 10, 2005

Several Steps Back

My wife calls me at work.

First sentence out of her mouth. "Is there anything you need to tell me?" ...taken aback slightly...

"Umm, I don't think so." this really going to happen now...

"I found something of yours." ...starting to lose feeling in my appendages...

"Oh, what's that?" ...stifling the quiver in my voice...

"What do you need a box of condoms for?" ...followed by intense nausea....

"Oh that. I thought maybe if your birth control is bothering you too much we could try doing with out it for a while and see how you feel..." ...then ear piercing silence rings in my head as I try to concentrate...

"Oh, OK. That's cool. We can try that." ...and my heart starts beating again...

"You got worried didn't you?" I hear the relief in her voice...

"Yes!" ...a sting of pain in my neck...

"Aw, I'm sorry baby. I wasn't going to push the issue with you but they are there if we want to go that route." ...back into hiding...

"Are you sure?" ...a tingling sensation marks the return of life to my vital organs...

"Whatever you decide my dear. Love you." ...opportunity lost.

Now, whether YOU believe me or not, this was entirely true. That's why i bought the condoms. But somewhere in there, the little voice in my brain had a conniption because of what I could have said. After I hung up the phone, I proceeded to ram my face into the desk.

Excuse me teacher, may I go to bathroom now, I need to vomit.



Speaking Softly and Carrying The Proverbial Big Stick

I address people with "sir" and "ma'am" quite frequently. I can't help it, it's simply ingrained in my nature. Amazingly enough, I was not trained as a young monkey to say "please", "thank you" or other such etiquette driven ideals. Quite the opposite in fact, it is a reaction to the lack of it's use among denizens of my generation. Unfortunately, it has the unexpected result of making some people feel absolutely archaic! This is not my intention.

If I happen to refer to you with any sort of honorific title please be aware I'm not attempting to instill in you any illusions of grandeur, and you are not in fact an ancient beast, it's merely because I like you and I am paying my respect in the manner I think suits you best. If it truly bothers you I'll stop of course. Just say so. I'm good like that.

This made me think, perhaps I'm not as progressive a person as I perceive myself to be. I suppose the stigma associated with this type of polite behavior is a direct descendant of an oppressive and deceptive by-gone era. I can understand this. It's probably why the number of people in whom I encounter gentlemanly behavior are few and far between. But I will still call you "sir" even if you are rude to me. I am the king of avoiding confrontation, if you couldn't tell already.

That must be part of my problem. I dwell in the notions of chivalry and altruism too much and indeed it backfires sometimes. I make no qualms that mannerisms do carry weight in the minds of others. But I don't wish it to be simply a facade to pull off successfully, I hope it to be an active part of my identity. I would be pleased to be known as a "Gentleman Rebel." Respectability within activism. Dignity coupled with change. Maybe the two aren't so mutually exclusive as we might think. It is a new century after all.

Of course, this might mean I'm in for some serious trouble when my monkey's rebel.


Wednesday, February 09, 2005

I Want To Play

Now this was a bit of a slap in the face. As much as I want to get my freak on as much as this guy, since I completely understand the motivation... this really what my life is destined for?

Focus. Must Focus.


Tuesday, February 08, 2005

Digging The Hole Even Deeper

I'm a bloggin' fool today.

I think I could probably succeed as a spy. I mean, spies don't have public blogs, I'm sure, but hey I went for years without expressing any of this and could probably have done it for years more. I can be a fantastic little actor if I want to be. I am quiet and ordinary enough to blend in without being noticed. I know the value of things that are not said. I can hear several conversations at once and most of the time I'm not even listening on purpose. I don't envy the life of a spy, though.

I gave away a secret once in the eighth grade. Like the stupid kids we were, a friend had entrusted me with his hush-hush bit and I unflinchingly blabbed it to the rest of the tiny population at the lunch table. Nobody proceeded to fly off the planet because the world hadn't stopped spinning. While the earth had not shattered, but my friend's trust had been. I could see the thousands of fragments free fall from his face like a broken mirror that had several sharp stones flung into it at full force. That was the first and last time I ever gave away someone's secret no matter how trivial.

I wonder, at times, how much my wife suspects something is up. She has a right to be wary, after all for our years together, I have built a reputation in the family for pulling the proverbial rabbit out of thin air. For a family with such biblical values, I sure do get them to lie for me often to make up cover stories. It's all innocent, banal things. like birthday surprises and the like, but a lie is still a lie no matter how you slice it. So plots and projects going on behind the scenes have always been around. I'm usually the instigator.

One thing you learn when you have a secret is how to pick your words wisely. I don't really say what's on my mind most of the time. I let others ask the questions. I know it frustrates her. She's asked me before if I ever thought of having a liaison with another woman. "Nope, you won't ever have to worry about that honey." And that is of course the truth. Oddly, for all of our frank talk about sex and affairs, she's never asked if I would be interested in a person of the same gender. She's probably as scared to find out the answer to that question as I am to give the answer to her.

Somebody posted a comment (interestingly anonymous) saying I should get a site meter to find out where and when people are coming from to view the blog. While it's a great suggestion I've gotten from more than a few people now, unfortunately, I think at this time it might just add to my current level of paranoia. I'm tempted but sometimes ignorance (and dare I say unintentional irresponsibility) truly is bliss.

Totally unrelated, but holy heck, there was this hottie at the gym tonight who may as well have not been wearing a shirt, it was so incredibly transparent and skin tight. Not that it's a bad thing. But it was a little distracting. No wonder my center of balance is so off. Another reason I couldn't be a spy, I'd fall for the handsome villain way too often.

Be advised, this message will self destruct in 15 seconds.


High Flying Snot Monkeys

My wife and monkeys are a bit sick. Happens every winter. She can't recuperate because she can't get enough sleep. The monkey's are around other sick monkey's frequently so it's a vicious cycle that perpetuates ad nauseam. I'm just waiting for my turn. The monkey's are resilient enough, still performing the usual acrobatics, just with slightly more fluids involved.

I should've already come down with something nasty at the level it's propagating but I've managed to get better at being preventative. Zinc tablets and whole foods and vitamin C. And water. Lots of water. Amazing how it really works. I used to get insanely ill when I was younger. It must have not helped that I consumed junk food on an equally insane basis. Two weeks at a time lying in bed swimming in alien mucus and concentrating on one breath at a time. Lovely image, I know. Aside from a minor sore throat I hardly ever get that way anymore.

But I do every year, without fail, lose my voice for some indeterminate period of time. Usually during the spring. And then I am the most pathetic piece of work you've ever seen. I'm also highly focused on what I am doing because people know I can't really communicate in that state, so they leave me alone even more. It does suck however, because I do tend to sing a lot. When you can't reach the notes you normally can and you know you sound like a dying cow on steroids, it's highly irritating. (I'm sure not only to myself but others around me.)

May you stay healthy and wise...


Monday, February 07, 2005

Where the Wild Things Are...

I've been linked! How'd that happen? Anyways, go visit Raw Youth so i can return the favor.

It is a little crazy that someone finds my world interesting. I honestly thought I would be a complete turn off to most of the people in my sidebar. I'd have been content to just be a lurker.

At first there was a tingling sensation of initial shock (No lie.), followed by a nervous twitch of "Holy heck! If it's this easy, someone's gonna figure it out!"(probably so) and then I calmed down after the blood rushed back to my head and thought "Hey, actually, wow that's cool."(it is) It's all about those baby steps to an eventual end. So for now, I am indeed happy to have an acknowledgment. It's inspiring. There's no turning back now.

In other news, I was just almost backed over by the UPS truck while my wife was telling me on the phone that monkey No. 1 was claiming to be a clone of himself and shouldn't have to go to school today. This at age 4. Can't wait for what's to come. Of course the first I want to do now was blog about it. Guess I'm an addict. But then again, looks like you are as well ;)


Sunday, February 06, 2005

A Rollercoaster for the Senses

Today had it's ups and downs. Ever since I started opening up to other people about all of this (albeit only to some very nice new friends online) my mood swings have become erratic. I feel good then all of the sudden a wave of sadness will pull me back into the dumps. And then I'll talk about it again and feel alright for a while. Then I wake up and do it all over again.

I had a good conversation with a friend about breathing a few days ago. I realized that I cannot get caught up in this sexual side of me too much right now. It is completely in my hands whether I decide to come out or not. When the time is right, I will. It is the only right thing to do. In the meantime I have the unwieldy task of teaching a few members of the new generation some tolerance and the importance of an open mind. And I have to concentrate on keeping it in my pants. Wish me luck.

Another big thing I am dealing with is that I'm considering changing careers. I have been where I am for so long because I am needed there and it's what I thought I wanted to do with my life. But the more I do it, the less important it becomes. I think as much as I hate being in a state of flux, it is that very state that keeps me alive. When i get too comfortable, bored, disenchanted, what have you, I turn into an incredible slacker. My desire becomes dim and it's really not fair to those involved. So if I'm not going to shake off the disdain for my current place in society, the only logical thing to do is move on. It's going to be...very hard to do.

Partly because I don't have a direction anymore. The avenues I thought I wanted to try have turned out to have some major potholes. I need something that is more often than not creatively stimulating rather than drudgingly dependent on selling something (sound familiar?). I realize that it's virtually impossible in this very modern and urban life I live in, but I think maybe I just need more balance between the creating and selling. All too often I fall to the extremes. It's gotta be all about balance.

So, I've been considering culinary school. I've been cooking for a while now. My wife doesn't cook at all and hasn't ever expressed interest. So I had to learn partly out of survival, make sure my kids get fed something other than nasty processed food product. But I, in fact, enjoy my epicurean tendencies quite thoroughly. It appeals to both my creative and intellectual sides. It's almost like performing music and producing sculpture simultaneously; you have to practice the steps and the timing while working with raw materials to turn it into something beautiful for the senses. And I am told that I do a good job at it. Goodness knows there aren't any shortage of people out there who need to eat. (I also happen to think a man who can handle his food can be very sexy...and is probably good at stimulating some other senses :) ) We'll see where it leads.


Thursday, February 03, 2005

Daily Nugget of Joy (The Life of an Ass)

I have this recurring and haunting realization about what an ass I am. It flares up frequently. I'm the biggest one I know. Because I am lying about my life. And I don't do anything about it. And I don't WANT to do anything about it because I'm scared. It's so incredibly childish. I don't want to talk about it and hope that someday it will just go away. But it's not going to go away. I was not raised this way. I don't necessarily need to grow balls, but maybe a spine would be nice.

I was so tired this morning. I turned the alarm off in my sleep, woke up an hour later and was consequently late to work. I hate that. My wife works in the evening and doesn't get home until after 1 in the morning most nights. So she can't help me wake up because she has problems with it herself, functioning on only a few hours sleep before the monkeys of the apocalypse (my sons) awake from their slumber. Even worse, the older monkey now knows how to use the snooze alarm, so sometimes nobody gets up and he misses school. It's happened far too frequently. I foresee a big problem next year when he starts going to kindergarten. Why is it that I have kids again? Oh yeah, because I'm an ass.

I later fell asleep in my chair at work for a good couple hours. I hate that, too. Maybe I'll make it to the gym today. Maybe I'll just go to bed when I get home. Sorry kids no Daddy today, everyone's going to bed. Right now. Cause I'm an ass.

My coworkers at work decide to watch their prime time TV at lunch. Goddamn American Idol. And your hideous addictive nature. This is why I don't have cable. Because I guess I am a sheep. I feel terrible because I laugh at their misfortune. And I am ten times better than some of those other sheep. Then again, they do bring it on themselves. Can we say...ass?

I see they raised the age limit to audition on the show. Maybe I should be the next American Idol. I'm such an ass, someone should give me a wake up enema. No wait, I might enjoy that.

Hopefully I'll be less of an ass tomorrow but I doubt it.


Wednesday, February 02, 2005

Blog on, brother

At risk of sounding like an utter psycho (although I have a feeling it's probably common) in the last few weeks I have become slightly obsessed with perusing blogs. I've been suddenly immersed into a vast ocean of peoples lives who I've never met and it's overwhelming. I'm amazed at how some can make the mundane seem interesting without making the reader feel intrusive. I've started to root for these people and it brings a smile to my face when they've made their daily update. I'll probably add a blogroll to the sidebar soon since I have quite a few that I frequent now. (As much as it makes me shudder, for these same reasons if I had cable I'd probably be hooked on reality TV too.)

Part of why i started this blog is because I was inspired by other fantastic blogs in the gay community. The big difference is that most of them it seems, are out and proud of it. They raise their voices and make it known, but it's also just part of their life that they write about. It's probably silly, but I find it very admirable. Even though there are many heartaches and trials, the moments of joy they can outwardly revel in seem genuine and I am slightly envious. Someday I hope to be as comfortable in my skin as some of these fine fellas. In the meantime I'll just make some more room in the closet.

On the same token, I'm still trying to get the hang of how to write in this thing. I of course I want to sound intelligent and likable, but Ultimately that shouldn't be the point of a blog. It should be real. A place to empty your skull and guts on the table for others to see the raw material and make their judgments. And if in this context I am a blabbering idiot and a spineless coward then so be it, perhaps that is what I truly am.