tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-41375660409209392552024-02-06T22:09:41.369-08:00A New ChapterWritings of a formerly LDS gay boy.Bretthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15406789176048897952noreply@blogger.comBlogger67125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4137566040920939255.post-61258582095613100012012-03-16T15:10:00.000-07:002012-03-16T15:10:01.873-07:00In which Brett Explores the Dark Side of Sexual RepressionThere is a trend, I think, toward believing that choosing celibacy is a legitimate option. At the very least, there seems to be a trend toward feeling like suppressing your own homosexuality is desirable. I don't want to tell you how to live your lives anymore than I want you to tell me how to live mine, but I would like to share a story with you.<br />
<br />
Jonathan and I, a little more than a year ago, moved in with a guy a named Eric, who was renting out a spare bedroom in a condo he himself was renting. Standard sort of shady Craigslist roommate search. Well, Eric gave off a gay vibe from the very beginning, but we decided we'd probe it gently. He was super evasive, so we wound up getting more direct, to no avail. He once answered a question of "do you like boys or girls" with "um, girls are good."<br />
<br />
Well, one evening after we'd been living with him for a couple of months we were out for drinks, which was a semi-normal occurrence for us, and Jon and I decided we would go and hit a gay club after. Eric decided he wanted to come with us, and we didn't see any harm in it. Having a straight friend at a gay bar is kind of fun, right?<br />
<br />
Not exactly. I spent the first hour or so telling Eric how to avoid accidentally flirting, and coaching him on all the gay lingo he might come across. Turns out it was totally unnecessary. He went home with a guy that night, turns out he's a total bottom.<br />
<br />
Eric was raised Baptist, not Mormon, but a lot of the same ideas apply. He was wracked with guilt, just like he always was after he got laid. We figured out that every time he came home from a vacation and went on a cleaning spree that lasted a week, it was because he had had sex.<br />
<br />
And that was his pattern: <br />
1. Do everything you can to be straight and celibate.<br />
2. Decide that you can never have a meaningful relationship with a man.<br />
3. Opt for anonymous sex with a stranger instead.<br />
4. Go on a cleaning spree to begin repenting<br />
5. Reaffirm your commitment to abstinence and heterosexuality.<br />
6. Start over.<br />
<br />
I'm not saying this is the definitive pattern that every guy will go through if they try to repress themselves. But I do think it's important to realize that you may not be as strong as you think you are, and you're fighting a powerful force of nature. Eric was good kid, but he had some really unhealthy self destructive habits. With time we were able to help him break out of that, but it took a lot of work to get him to the point where he was able to realize that a health, committed relationship with a man was better than having sex with strangers all the time.<br />
<br />
Given the choice between the two, don't you think you'd prefer the one to the other?Bretthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15406789176048897952noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4137566040920939255.post-27583253650295389422012-03-12T13:37:00.002-07:002012-03-12T13:38:15.581-07:00In which Brett marvels at how the world, and his perceptions of it, have changedI recently started a new blog to document my upcoming travels. You can read about it at<a href="http://lambdavagabonders.blogspot.com/"> Lambda Vagabonders</a>. (Shameless plug) It got me thinking about how much I missed this one. The times I'd shared with the people who read my blog. The whining, the hiding, the envy, the whole spectrum of emotions that I'd experienced while typing away on this blog that I thought only a few people ever read. If only I'd known how many people were reading, I don't know that I could have kept typing.<br />
<br />
Then comes a point when you realize: things are quieter now. I'm laying on a couch in the house Jon and I rent. Dr. Sharma cancelled class today and I only had the one on MWF. I haven't been conflicted about my sexual orientation in ages. I literally don't think I can remember the last time. I've grown to accept and love myself, and the world around me is changing in that direction too. I never would have believed, when I was a scared, gay 17 year old at BYU that things would ever work out this way.<br />
<br />
Most of my old friends stopped updating their blogs a long time ago. I think the trendy thing is either semi-annual or annual updates. Not wishing to appear a slave to fashion, I think I'll opt for something like every 8 months, and then randomly switch to periods of activity. :)<br />
<br />
Reading through the blogs, the dichotomy amazes me. People seem to, after a couple of years, take to one of two camps. They either decide to accept themselves and who they are, or they decide to loathe themselves at what they perceive to be the behest of the church, although I doubt the church as a formal body could really care less what they do. If I were the church, I'd really just want you all to go away. But I'm not, and I don't.<br />
<br />
It's well exemplified by <a href="http://gaybyustudent.blogspot.com/">Michael</a>, who is happily married to a man and even changed his name to his husband's, on the one side, and <a href="http://ardentmormon.blogspot.com/">L</a>, who is, I assume, happily married to a woman, active in the church, and an ardent opponent of gay marriage and "the lifestyle," on the other. I can't help but feel almost sort of sorry for L, which is funny because I used to so look up to him. I don't want to judge him, but I know what it feels like to wake up hating yourself while defiantly claiming to love yourself. I hope he, and those who choose his path, find happiness.<br />
<br />
As the world turns, it becomes astoundingly more accepting of gay people. Currently, six states allow gay marriages. They are NY, CT, MA, IA, VT, and NH. Marriage is also allowed in DC. By 2013, marriage is expected to be allowed in MD and WA, and possibly in a couple of other states. For example, it passed in NJ, but was vetoed by the governor. About this time one year ago, Gallup found that the majority of Americans are in favor of gay marriage. 53% favored legal recognition of the unions compared to 45% opposing. It is difficult, in light of this overwhelming support, to imagine that there are still gay men out there who actively fight against gay marriage, gnashing that it must never come to pass. At the risk of sounding overly pompous, I feel for all of them.<br />
<br />
I understand that many view me as apostate. I remember way back when the big apostate was "mohohawaii," who was so bold as to post on things like finding a boyfriend! In retrospect, I feel like he may have been a bit too forceful, but his intentions were good. No doubt many will feel similarly about me. Nevertheless, I hope that you can all look forward to the world changing for the better, at least in terms of how people feel about you. I hope that all get to be very happy, regardless of which path you take.Bretthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15406789176048897952noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4137566040920939255.post-16870271942368813772011-09-02T22:36:00.000-07:002011-09-02T22:36:17.952-07:00In which Brett and Jonathan save their marriageHello world. It's been a while, and I've sort of missed you. It's been an interesting couple of months, and when things get interesting there's really nothing quite like the Moho blogosphere to get it all out in the open.<br />
<br />
Back in the beginning of July, Jonathan and I went through the worst fight in our relationship. Without getting into details, mistakes were made on both sides of the aisle. Things were so bad that Jonathan decided he had to leave. Immediately, he began dating another man. I turned into a total bar fly, with getting laid as my primary motivation in life.<br />
<br />
Two weeks of this passed, and we both decided we really couldn't do it anymore. So we got together and talked, and decided not to file the dissolution paperwork. A week later and Jonathan had effectively moved back in.<br />
<br />
Now Jonathan is going to counseling with a woman whose skill I greatly admire. The things that he is learning about himself and the management of his emotions I myself am finding useful. As soon as we were able to commit to each other fully again, things started going better.<br />
<br />
Things are as good as they've ever been. Jonathan and I are madly in love all over again, our plans for our lives are back on track. We've even adopted a dog together. The secret, you ask? Commitment. There's nothing else that makes a relationship work, that makes a relationship last. There is no substitute for being wholly committed to your partner. It almost took our marriage dissolving for us to really learn this lesson, but now we know. are in the best place we've ever been, and hopefully have nothing but more of the same down the road.Bretthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15406789176048897952noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4137566040920939255.post-9930330349852114362010-04-06T07:28:00.000-07:002010-04-06T07:28:21.083-07:00In which Brett and Jonathan adoptFirst of all, sorry it's been so long since I last posted. Between finals and a very stressful spring break weekend, I just haven't had the energy necessary to keep up the blog. I think that might make me unreliable. Huh.<br />
<br />
Anyway, Jonathan and I were looking at puppies online last week. (This is something we do on a semi-regular basis even though our apartment does not allow dogs. It's really a very sad scenario, but there isn't room for one here anyway. When we buy a house, we'll get a dog.) After finding several very suitable candidates for adoption, we got sad and decided to give it up. Somehow, I honestly couldn't tell you how, the conversation turned to Jonathan's older brother's former pet snake, a Burmese Python. I put my foot down on snakes that get to be up to 22 feet long. That was not acceptable to me. But I was open to the idea of something a little bit more apartment friendly.<br />
<br />
We decided to go to Petsmart, where we looked at a few different varieties of snake, including ball pythons, milk snakes, and corn snakes, each of which only get to be 6 feet max. I played with a corn snake and milk snake both for a while, and I was pretty quickly convinced that getting one would be OK. Being the type of guy I am though, I wanted to check out some other places first, and Jonathan wasn't quite convinced because setting up the vivarium for the snake was a bit cost prohibitive. We went to a Petco, which was kind of sad and dirty and didn't have any corn snakes, only ball pythons. She suggested we check out a totally local place called <a href="http://www.thetropicalhut.com/index.html">Tropical Hut</a>, which was only about a mile and a half from our place. We headed down there, where we met and talked to the owner and one of her good friends who were working on breeding some ball pythons. She was the most amazing source of information, and was able to give us a deal that brought our total cost to less than half of what the Petsmart was saying. And we got a more interesting, rarer snake in my opinion.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTgWX3zVp5Yn6jsylTzOeCAgPQMxT0gx0zDNKBXxSsi8UAbfiYd0Kgv7sSqqsZRVCo8z2MYIj9YLEp5OQAoVzCnhhFylrKeliaFAFDfRDfC82AX4q2I1Fq1h8V5v0xhEv_pdvW-9vhFlg/s1600/New+Snake+011.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTgWX3zVp5Yn6jsylTzOeCAgPQMxT0gx0zDNKBXxSsi8UAbfiYd0Kgv7sSqqsZRVCo8z2MYIj9YLEp5OQAoVzCnhhFylrKeliaFAFDfRDfC82AX4q2I1Fq1h8V5v0xhEv_pdvW-9vhFlg/s320/New+Snake+011.JPG" /></a></div>After a day to think on it and make sure we were ready for that sort of commitment, I talked to the land lady. She was cool with it, so last night when Jonathan was done with class we drove down to Tropical Hut and picked up Dorian. He seems pretty happy in his new home, seeing as how it's at least three times as big as his old one. It's pretty spartan for the moment, and this morning he's burrowed himself into the bedding to feel safer in this strange place, but we're going to get him some decoration and creature comforts in the coming week to help him feel more at home. Dorian is a Blood Corn snake, which refers to his skin color. Both his mother and father were Bloods, meaning that in their adult life their pattern faded and their main skin became a darker red, making for an all red snake. I'll keep you posted on his developments, but we're super excited to have Dorian living with us. It's a nice feeling, that we're responsible for a life together.Bretthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15406789176048897952noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4137566040920939255.post-91453993221445238592010-03-16T07:57:00.000-07:002010-03-16T07:57:04.008-07:00In which Brett and Jonathan Get Kicked Out of their Bedroom<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1lzdYbU1J-DE7ibDXVaog-L5zz2g3ucouHPcXz1Xv4hpRSOhC-a9MV-YU0zkrngqSY0sBsKBMHylUzDpICMTwS9asUpAsT_u-QJGicWnChK_XcigVkhV6uY4MhQk8kAI5HSRvPvLXv58/s1600-h/IMG_0118.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1lzdYbU1J-DE7ibDXVaog-L5zz2g3ucouHPcXz1Xv4hpRSOhC-a9MV-YU0zkrngqSY0sBsKBMHylUzDpICMTwS9asUpAsT_u-QJGicWnChK_XcigVkhV6uY4MhQk8kAI5HSRvPvLXv58/s320/IMG_0118.JPG" /></a></div>A little while ago, Jonathan and I had a slight mold problem in our apartment. The wall was bubbling with it, in fact. It was pretty gross. The manager came out and had a look at it, and popped a couple bubbles. A putrid smelling liquid came out, and that was the end of her experimenting. She had the maintenance lady cut a piece of the wall out, an found that there was mold on the back side of it too. So, for the past couple weeks, we've had a hole in our wall. It's that little black patch in the corner, and, needless to say, it really didn't bug us that much and we quickly stopped thinking about it. Until Friday, when the land-lady came by to tell us she'd found somebody tear our wall out and replace it and that we needed to have everything out of the bedroom when they got there (they'll be getting here in about ten minutes.)<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFa849cVCYbHZ7rnIVLKP0-BkuGKci2VslDaSMaVTNB7gHawGbOMisVsuqddlCp8Jcpt57qeVacx4W29DqV1RDpINbPVuKDlNo1bcbntrCsPlJ6HdZXENo_9rSqmrU4FQ2JMNQfQB7qhA/s1600-h/IMG_0119.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFa849cVCYbHZ7rnIVLKP0-BkuGKci2VslDaSMaVTNB7gHawGbOMisVsuqddlCp8Jcpt57qeVacx4W29DqV1RDpINbPVuKDlNo1bcbntrCsPlJ6HdZXENo_9rSqmrU4FQ2JMNQfQB7qhA/s320/IMG_0119.JPG" /></a></div>So, last night Jonathan and I emptied out the Bedroom, dresser, closet, bed, etc... and moved everything to the living room. Our sleeping arrangement now looks like this, with our mattress on the floor nestled between the bookcase and the couch. Supposedly, this is for the next three days, but possibly longer depending on how bad the mold problem is. We are getting 100 dollars off the month's rent though, so that will be pretty nice. <br />
<br />
Anyway, it turns out that our living room is not exactly level. The night was restless, tossing and turning and nightmares, and body aches and a horrid headache when we got up this morning. We've decided we probably slept with our heads downhill. We're switching the pillows and bedding around today to see if it gets any better. If not, we'll have to figure something out. It's finals week and I need to be getting the right amount of sleep.Bretthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15406789176048897952noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4137566040920939255.post-13094044960514623702010-03-15T08:25:00.000-07:002010-03-15T09:04:38.334-07:00In which Brett celebrates his 21st BirthdayThis last Tuesday, I had the great honor of joining the ranks of "adults" for the second time. Next one's at 25 and the last one's at 40. I can hardly wait. The 21st birthday is, in the American tradition, one of the more important ones, on which the birthday boy(or girl) is supposed to be out at a dozen different bars at midnight and get so trashed that they have, in fact, no memory of their birthday to begin with. I, however, am boring. (And that's another post I'm working on, maybe later this week.)<br />
<br />
Having already been so drunk, at one point in my life, that the room spun and I threw up, I had no desire whatsoever to get even drunker than that just because I could finally legally purchase alcohol in the states. So I went with Jonathan to see Alice in Wonderland (Really not that great) instead. On Friday, we went to dinner with Jonathan's older brother (Jeremiah) and niece (Serena). The Montage is a different sort of establishment, if you want a local micro-brew on tap instead of something crappy in a bottle or can, you have to go into the bar in the back, get it yourself, and bring it back out. So, we did.<br />
<br />
Back in the bar, it was just Jeremiah and I. I turned to him and said, "Somehow, I really hadn't imagined that I'd be buying my first beer with my boyfriend's older brother."<br />
He just grinned a bit, and we ordered our beers.<br />
"That's funny. I really hadn't imagined I'd be buying my little brother's boyfriend his first beer."<br />
It was a nice sentiment, and really made me feel like part of the family. And the beer was crisp and delicious. <br />
<br />
The next day, we went to celebrate with my family, an affair consisting of German food and tremendous awkwardness. My older brother came in with a chip on his shoulder, first he got into it with my parents, who had asked him to take my little sister to an event at the church. He felt like they were trying to wrangle him back in, and rather than making his point maturely about it, he acted like a little kid. After this, he got into it with me about gun rights. After that, he started going off about conspiracy theories including aliens in Olympia Washington, and a secret plot to take over the world from underneath the airport in Denver Colorado! The short version: He's finally lost it and gone totally off the deep end.<br />
<br />
Recognizing the need to get out of there, my mother suggested that she take Jonathan and I to a movie, so we went to the theatre. She's Out of my League was the movie we decided on... awkward, is the best way to put it. I almost died sitting next to my mother in the scene where the main character cums in his pants... Fortunately, she was cool about it, and actually said she enjoyed the movie. Even so, let me express that you shouldn't take your mom to it.Bretthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15406789176048897952noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4137566040920939255.post-4743085516375142982010-03-08T06:46:00.000-08:002010-03-08T06:46:11.827-08:00In which Brett and Jonathan Go to the Beach<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi78QAOUhTihfWa5zv0AONrqM4EJ1FEbrrr054aS-iwI6PPYNYFEK-wx-ZA-izyJHwfeP9v6Qx0-MiSuy_m7t0F-tZh4irJL34B73VzvuGl59i3lo1kT01jxT6kDvcM33Jp7t7XWhIBTbw/s1600-h/Brett+Tickling+Jonathan+at+the+Beach.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi78QAOUhTihfWa5zv0AONrqM4EJ1FEbrrr054aS-iwI6PPYNYFEK-wx-ZA-izyJHwfeP9v6Qx0-MiSuy_m7t0F-tZh4irJL34B73VzvuGl59i3lo1kT01jxT6kDvcM33Jp7t7XWhIBTbw/s320/Brett+Tickling+Jonathan+at+the+Beach.jpg" /></a></div>Saturday was very nice by Oregon standards for this time of year. It was 63 and sunny in town, so we decided to pick up our friend Jessica and head on out to Cannon Beach. It was a great time, albeit windy, and since Jessica was there, there are pictures! This featured one is of Jonathan doing a handstand and me tickling him, in case it wasn't obvious. As the day warmed up, we got ice cream cones and Jonathan got himself one of those giant suckers.<br />
<br />
Once we actually got to the beach, we walked across a small but absolutely freezing river that split the beach in two as it met the ocean. On the far side of the river, the beach was more or less deserted. We walked all the way to the end of the beach, enjoying the sun and our ice cream. It was serene and peaceful, and we decided it had definitely been worth the mild discomfort of that little stream to get to where we were. On the way back, I found a whole sand dollar buried in the sand. For those of you unfamiliar with Oregon beaches, it's pretty rare to find a whole sand dollar unless you're scuba diving and the thing's still alive. In the past nearly 21 years, this is the first one I've found, and Jessica, who's in her late twenties, confirmed that she had also only found one or two in her life. It made me feel special.<br />
<br />
After playing on the beach for a couple more hours, we decided to pile in the car and head down further south in search of either another beach or another adventure. We wound up at the Tillamook Cheese Factory, where we watched a man vacuum seal 42lbs blocks of cheese to age in the cooler. That's a ton of cheese. We ate our free samples and left, the cheese having tickled our appetites. We drove back up the coast to Rockaway Beach, where we stopped in at a hole in the wall none of us had ever tried before. The Old Oregon Smokehouse, hardly even visible from the main drag of HWY101.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMXkKbeCSSBNLMuNFT3eUQNTJz4uFm2j8i8viWC7TFbeVtEiDEAxXwS8IuzWPrDP5cbFjdZraBeKZzCJC4ocSoSuTy6OEPhYu9nQ93HcEeV2jNIDKoub-eO-TSvGlRKUrQJ5u_Ra0TBqU/s1600-h/Old+Oregon+Smokehouse.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMXkKbeCSSBNLMuNFT3eUQNTJz4uFm2j8i8viWC7TFbeVtEiDEAxXwS8IuzWPrDP5cbFjdZraBeKZzCJC4ocSoSuTy6OEPhYu9nQ93HcEeV2jNIDKoub-eO-TSvGlRKUrQJ5u_Ra0TBqU/s320/Old+Oregon+Smokehouse.jpg" /></a></div>We went in and the sweetest lady, probably in her 40s and presumably the owner, helped us out with our food. The prices were reasonable, and the food was really good. There was a slight problem though. She undercharged us for our meal. We didn't notice it until we were almost done eating. Jonathan hardly hesitated at all. He pointed out to us the mistake, and said he'd wait until the other customers left the shack (seating was outside) and he'd go in and talk to her. True to his word, he did just that. At first, the lady refused to take the money, but Jonathan was insistent, and she eventually gave in and took the money.<br />
<br />
While Jonathan was inside, taking care of the money, I turned to Jessica and said to her, "That's why Jonathan's my boyfriend; he's the kind of man who does what's right." She looked at me and nodded, smiling. "He's a real catch."Bretthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15406789176048897952noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4137566040920939255.post-74357626323755525572010-03-05T09:25:00.000-08:002010-03-05T11:31:26.265-08:00How I came out to my fatherJonathan said to me, during a recent fight, that he sometimes feels like he doesn't know very much about me. He says, to me, "I've been told by [friend] several times that you have one of the best coming out stories, but when I ask you about it you just say, 'I did it in Florida'." I realized, that I hadn't told my "coming out story" for at least a year and a half, maybe more, and I thought I'd scan my blog to see if I could find it. And it's not on here. I figured then, that that I might try to get down as much of it as I can remember while I can. God, I often wish I'd kept a journal like the church leaders always told me I should. :)<br />
<br />
Travel with me back in time to December 2007. My relationship with Ishmael (who's name I will keep as Ishmael for the sake of his privacy) was still going on, and he had decided that we were no more to be namelesses, instead boyfriends. We were going to move in together. My parents had come down to Disney World to see me and have a vacation, my father still did not know I was gay. Because of the great big bundle of money I was saving them on the trip, they decided to make it even by spending a bunch of money on me at Ikea, to help me get set up in my new place. And thus, my brilliant plan came about.<br />
<br />
"Ishmael," I asked him one evening while my parents were in town, "would you mind coming with to Ikea when my parents take me to get stuff for the apartment."<br />
He was pretty reserved, knowing that I was not out to my father. "Are you sure that you're comfortable with that? I don't want there to be any drama with your dad."<br />
"I'm sure. It'll be fine, I'll tell him I'm just borrowing your car and he won't think anything of it."<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3czXHVAcBIf7v5vRxmxp_fA7jrorTMiBwyRBR0IFW5xe6DrOC4LutbBv9X5gm1D1X3Tf1540B8CVWcu5JhEeWQ_kTTuZjES1VEeZHXFX3x0kCSQLQ2-3lbQ4400SA0RpED2ekR4ioO6Y/s1600-h/ikea.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3czXHVAcBIf7v5vRxmxp_fA7jrorTMiBwyRBR0IFW5xe6DrOC4LutbBv9X5gm1D1X3Tf1540B8CVWcu5JhEeWQ_kTTuZjES1VEeZHXFX3x0kCSQLQ2-3lbQ4400SA0RpED2ekR4ioO6Y/s320/ikea.jpg" /></a></div>Well, the day of Ikea came about, and we took Ishmael's car to get stuff. My mother knew instantly who he was, my father remained clueless at first. There were a few things I had already picked out, but there were many others I hadn't.<br />
"Ishmael, what do you think of this mattress?"<br />
"Ishmael, do you like these towells?"<br />
"Ishmael, how do you feel about this clock?"<br />
By that point, Ishmael knew exactly what was going on and told me he did not like the clock at all, and that maybe I should wait and see how everything looked at my apartment before I got anything else.<br />
<br />
I could take a hint, and I backed off. Several days later, after my parents had gone home, I called my father.<br />
"Hey dad."<br />
"Hey son."<br />
"Dad, there's something we need to talk about. You remember the guy who went to Ikea with us?"<br />
"Yeah. Brett, it was pretty obvious you had a thing for him. I want you to know that's totally normal, even I, at one point, had a friend I was really attracted to and I felt like he really understood me, and it's totally normal."<br />
"No, dad, see, he's kind of my boyfriend."<br />
"Oh. I see... Well, you could have done worse. I have to go now, I'll call you later."<br />
<br />
And that was the end of that conversation. When I moved back to Portland a couple months later, my father made a real effort to be supportive, giving me advice and encouragement and whatnot, but he always seemed to think that I was going to want to go back to women at some point. It wasn't until he met Jonathan, I think, that he really became OK with the face that I'm gay and staying that way. That was almost two years later. And now, things are good, between my dad and me. It took us a while get here, but I'm glad I told him. I'm glad I'm totally out now, it's freeing very freeing, and I don't think I could have experienced that if I hadn't told my dad.Bretthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15406789176048897952noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4137566040920939255.post-12481469204155069232010-03-04T06:38:00.000-08:002010-03-04T06:38:46.700-08:00A Great Day for Gay RightsAs some of you may already know, gay marriage, not civil unions or domestic partnerships, but gay marriage has become legal in Washington DC. Also, within the same 24 hour period, churches in the UK were granted the right to celebrate UK Civil Partnerships if they so chose, a choice which was previously denied to them. And one more whopper, As of today, it's legal in Mexico City. Try that on for size!<br />
<br />
The District of Columbia will be joining Connecticut, Iowa, Massachusetts, New Hampshire, and Vermont as a place where same sex marriages are preformed. The congressional review period has already passed, and the measure passed in the DC Council with near unanimity. Is this a change in general American opinion? Unfortunately, not really. DC has always been very liberal and moderately pro-gay. But it's still significant. 10% of US States now have legal gay marriage, and now our nations capital city has it too.<br />
<br />
Because of the new DC law, Maryland is considering whether it should be changing it's laws to recognize same sex marriages preformed in other states. Meanwhile, this provides great momentum for the 2012 ballot fights in Oregon and California. But what this really means to me is hope.<br />
<br />
It provides me with a sense of hope that maybe some day there won't be discrimination anymore. Living in Portland, where with the exception of marriage rights we're treated as equals, it's easy to forget about the plight of Gay people in other parts of the country. Firing somebody, or even being impolite to somebody for that matter, because they're gay is inconceivable here. I look forward to the day when it's like that everywhere. And that's not to say anything about equal tax treatment or employment benefits!Bretthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15406789176048897952noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4137566040920939255.post-9974171114774218212010-03-02T06:40:00.000-08:002010-03-03T05:57:32.499-08:00On the rejectionist phaseI realize that many of my readers are interested in issues pertaining to the church.(So much so, that I don't even really need to specify which church!) In order to increase my readership, I should therefore try to talk about issues that affect or are affected by both my homosexuality and the church. Everybody seeing how that works? The only problem is, I really don't think about the church much anymore. It isn't really a part of my life like it used to be. During and since my rejectionist phase, the church has been a matter of relative unimportance. I don't even realize it when it's conference weekend anymore, much to my mother's dismay. :)<br />
<br />
So instead, let's talk about my rejectionist phase, how it's affected and is continuing to affect me, and how I think that if I'd taken smaller steps and not got so caught up in "being a good gay" (That's its own post), I really could have mitigated it.<br />
<br />
I consider myself to have left the church in late 2007, a good date to put on it, since I haven't been to church since I went to Florida. Interestingly, I didn't really go through rejectionism until the following summer. I think a part of it is which crowd you end up running with. Nobody is really above peer pressure, especially not an 18 year old in a strange place. In other words, I think the reason that I was able to avoid it was good friends and decent boyfriends. But even so, I started building a picture of a life that wasn't really the life I wanted.<br />
<br />
So, we'll skip past the part where I still lived a pretty good normal life to the part where I turned into a "bad person" for a while. It was May 2008, and I had moved back to Portland and had a good job. I was dating a person who was not my equal and with whom I had nothing in common, other than that we both liked sex. We came from completely opposite socioeconomic backgrounds, but the real problem was that he was dumb a doorknob, if you'll pardon me for being rude. Even so, I didn't really start making bad decisions until I started dating him. That's not to say that it was his fault at all. I take full responsibility for all of my actions.<br />
<br />
It started innocently enough with, "you've never smoked [green substance]?" You guys can figure out what it was from that, I think. I let him talk me into that, and it was all down hill from there. The next one on the list was a fungus. I was way more reserved about that, but I tried it anyway with enough coaxing. We went to his "Doctor's" house. That was an experience like something out of a movie. There were people out on the porch smoking, the house moved with reggae music, a couple of people were banging on bongo drums... There was a guy nobody knew in the back making burritos. Doctor herself was like something out of a story book. She was maybe 4'11", had long dread-locked hair, big thick glasses, and enough [green substance] to provide for the city of Portland. Along with other substances. The whole experience was entirely surreal.<br />
<br />
Drugs were only a part of it. Our relationship was pretty much entirely about sex. When we didn't have anything better to do, we had sex. We usually did it at least twice a day, but sometimes way more. When he suggested we have a threesome, I turned him down a few times, but I did eventually give in. If he had known that I would ultimately cheat on him with the guy that we had the threesome with, I wonder if he still would have wanted to have one. We did it twice, and during the second time he got really jealous and upset. That was the end of that. Let me just say, that cheating on him subsequently is hands down the worst decision I have ever made in my life.<br />
<br />
The sad part is, ultimately I was the one who left him. He had every reason to leave me, but he was convinced that he was never going to better. What's worse is, I think a part of him thought that that kind of behavior was normal or acceptable. Ultimately, I lead him on for quite a while before I broke up with him. Why he didn't break up with me when he found out is something I can really only speculate as to. But, for what it's worth, we're both in much better places now.<br />
<br />
The choices that I made then were bad, and continue to affect me. Jonathan, for example, often worries, when his seasonal depression is particularly bad, that I have/am/will cheat/ing/ed on him. At the same time, he has feelings of jealousy about drugs and threesomes. It makes him feel inexperienced, because he never had a major rejectionist phase. He's also former LDS, btw. At the same time, he has the inhibitions that he should have, preventing him from actually doing those things. And hopefully, those will keep up, as long as I can try to influence him for good instead of for bad.<br />
<br />
I guess the point I'm trying to make is, while it's tempting, when you leave the church, to throw away your moral compass, it's dangerous. The other point I'm trying to make is, don't make bad choices for a guy unless you're 1000% certain that he's the one. If he wants you to make bad choices, odds are very good he's not the one. When you finally get to a serious relationship, understand that he's going to want to know about your past, and that seriously bad choices can make for difficulties down the line. Be smart, and like your mom probably told you before every dance, make good choices.<br />
<br />
Brett<br />
<br />
P.S.<br />
<br />
I found that reading the Confucian Analects was very helpful in reestablishing my moral compass, for what it's worth if any of you are currently going through something similar.Bretthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15406789176048897952noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4137566040920939255.post-75212017404917114972010-02-26T10:14:00.000-08:002010-02-26T10:49:08.326-08:00The last year (or so)Hey all, long time no see. It's been a year and no updates, and on the off chance that anybody still reads this (My StatCounter indicates I get like, six views a month), I figured I'd fill you in on the goings on in my life. I think, at this point, we're safe to abandon the pretext of Stephen. Most of you abandoned your monikers years ago, and I'm formally doing the same. In the last year, so much and yet so little has happened. I think maybe that's more normal than most people like to let on.<br /><br />My 20th birthday was largely uneventful. In fact, the whole month of march was. In the spring, I took a yoga class amidst my other classes and that was a blast. I think, decently regularly, that I would like to start doing yoga again. I was more at peace while I was doing it; it had a way of relaxing me.<br /><br />In the summer, I moved to an apartment right next to PSU. Ryan, my roommate, was a real clown, but a good guy overall. The apartment was fun, and I met some nice people. I never really connected with them though. It's strange how that happens.<br /><br />At the end of the summer, I went to the Caribbean and Florida with my family. It was an awesome adventure, a Disney Cruise. Cruising is surprisingly affordable, and it's bad reputation for being a rich people thing is really undeserved. Upon returning from that vacation, I met Jonathan.<br /><br />Jonathan and I fell for eachother very quickly. Unfortunately, I moved too fast, and I robbed him of things that he deserves. When I propose to him for the second time, I'll do it right. Flowers, a nice restaurant, an engagement ring. A few among the many things he deserves.<br /><br />We moved in together officially on New Year's Day, but I'd been staying exclusively at his place for quite some time before that. We weren't even in Portland on the day my old apartment stopped being mine. We were visiting his family in Utah.<br /><br />Meanwhile, work at FedEx had gotten out of hand. Shortly before we left for that trip, a manager assaulted me. When I filed a complaint with senior management, he was sent home for the night. That was it. So, I stopped working at FedEx, although really I'd been planning on doing that anyway. I never much liked it there to begin with.<br /><br />Two months later, I'm still unemployed, a fact which is grinding on Jonathan's last nerves. I do have a job lined up, but it doesn't start until late march. Tax return season was very good to us, and things look up right now. Last Tuesday, we bough roundtrip tickets to Bangkok for the end of summer. We're going to take a month and see Thailand and Cambodia. Everything from the Emerald Buddah to the Angkor Wat, and we're going to ride elephants too!<br /><br />That brings us to the present. I think, it's possible I may start blogging more frequently again. Probably not back to the every day thing, but maybe a bit more frequently than once or twice a year, huh? We'll see how readership goes. :)<br /><br />-BrettBretthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15406789176048897952noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4137566040920939255.post-22606945636182729172009-02-22T11:29:00.000-08:002009-02-22T11:31:06.947-08:00CleanFor everybody who read my last post, at this point it seems that I'm clean. It's been well over a month and the tests aren't detecting a viral load or any presence of the P24 antigen. Thank you very much for your support. :)Bretthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15406789176048897952noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4137566040920939255.post-86494681820705558122009-01-14T23:29:00.000-08:002009-01-14T23:35:17.852-08:00SeroconversionSeroconversion is the most frightening word I know of. I'm undergoing what's called a scare right now. I've been exposed to the virus, albeit in a manner very unlikely (about 1/4000) to transmit. I've also started PEP via Retrovir and Epivir, a combination which has an 80% success rate in preventing transmission in high risk scenarios. Having said all of this, I don't think I've ever been this frightened in my life. The word seroconversion, whether I seroconvert or not, will likely haunt me for the rest of my life...Bretthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15406789176048897952noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4137566040920939255.post-62843573275164841062007-11-26T22:34:00.000-08:002007-11-26T23:10:35.832-08:00Emotional MaturityA long conversation with Ishmael today revealed a few things that I believe about maturity. You see, I pride myself on being somebody who is "mature," without ever bothering to define that nebulous concept. I should probably start at the very beginning.<br /><br />Ishmael is not a perfect person. Nobody is. He has his own quirks that could make even the most dedicated of pursuers reconsider his merits. One such is his immense fear of commitment. While it naturally has a roost in a series of difficult life events, it's still remarkably frustrating. It was while we were discussing such things that I had this epiphany about maturity. I once believed that it was placing the needs of another above yourself, and always being understanding.<br /><br />Now, I understand that that is incorrect. Maturity means looking out for yourself as well, and acknowledging that at a given point, you cannot continue to be understanding; you have to ask for yourself as well. Achieving this balance where you can both understand and be compassionate while still asking and being honestly deliberately forward is what I would call a perfect end goal for emotional maturity, and I hope it's where I'm headed right now.Stephenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01234050525776274442noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4137566040920939255.post-38315227078335104292007-11-08T20:36:00.000-08:002007-11-08T17:36:54.129-08:00Call him IshmaelWell, maybe not quite. A far better literary representation of him would probably be... well, I can't think of a good one. Sufficeth to say that I've found myself a boy. He's... intoxicating. Different than anybody else I've ever been with. We'll call him Ishmael though, just because it's what I want to use.<br /><br />I met him a couple of weeks ago at work, just smiling and stuff, and then he gave me his number and things went from there. We hang out a lot, anymore, and every time I come away from spending time with him I feel elated. I like the way he makes me feel.<br /><br />Anyway, this would be the latest update in the life of Stephen would be the entry of a new character, and hopefully Ishmael is around to stay. I'm not quite sure how to say that we have sex, so I'll just out and say it. He's pretty much the best lay of any boy I've ever been with, although not the best kisser. Trainable though. The big thing that kind of bugs me about him is his massive fear of commitment. I mean, his last boyfriend hurt him pretty badly, but even so. We've been dating for almost three weeks now, and we're still not boyfriends, rather "namelesses." I don't like that. At all. Commitment without a title is still commitment, but... just not the same.<br /><br />Anyway, I guess the point is that a part of my new life here in Florida will very well involve a love life with a boy, and hopefully that boy is Ishmael.<br /><br />In other news, a friend of mine and I were discussing renewing the underwear conversation, so that the merits of CK Trunks versus A&F Boxers could be debated. Which do you prefer for yourself? For another boy?<br /><br />-Stephen<br /><br />P.S.<br />I like that fact that being a Moho <span style="font-weight: bold;">whore</span> is considered better than being a Homo...<br /><br />-StephenStephenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01234050525776274442noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4137566040920939255.post-30383219429438668182007-10-08T14:13:00.000-07:002007-10-08T14:22:12.297-07:00Parliament HouseSo, being completely out and open down here, I let some of my friends convince me to try going to a gay club. They warned me, "It's kind of trashy, and you'll come home smelling like cigarettes." (I haven't had one in about a week, by the way.) I went anyway, last night. Trashy didn't begin to describe the Parliament House. It was... gross. Like I kind of expected to slip in thrown up beer and semen. Needless to say, I was remarkably uncomfortable, and rather than going to the dance floor took to being a wall flower.<br /><br />The trashiness got worse. People started dancing (trying to be seductive) in front of me. I avoided eye contact. One of them was old enough to be my father. Eventually, my friends noticed that I wasn't having a great time, and they asked if I wanted to step outside. The courtyard took trashy to a whole new level. There was a built in seedy seedy seedy motel that was a part of the club. They actually built an f-ing motel for one night stands and hook ups at the club. Entertaining as it was, we decided to leave. We drove around for a while looking for the much nicer gay club, "Pulse", but we didn't find it.<br /><br />I don't know if I'm ever going gay-clubbing against after that. They tried to convince me that it was just an awful night at Parliament House, but I don't know. Talk about a bad first impression... My new chapter is sure as hell not going to have anything to do with a one night stand hookup from a club.Stephenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01234050525776274442noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4137566040920939255.post-61235179252344862202007-10-06T21:09:00.000-07:002010-02-26T10:27:10.977-08:00Closing a ChapterI think it's time we had a frank discussion. If you read my blog even though I've left the church, I really do appreciate you. You are a part of what makes the church such a good thing, and you probably cared about me more from the start anyway. If you're planning on stopping reading now that you know for sure I'm gone, I understand. The premise just isn't as exciting. A gay Mormon at Disney World has potential to be a sitcom; a gay guy at Disney World is pretty much normal.<br /><br />I think it would be worth it to talk for a little while about life, and not as in an update in my current events. Life is constantly drawn against a book in analogy. I'm not sure it's the best one ever, but it'll do for now. You all have had many and various chapters in your lives, done interesting things, and basically just lived. The past couple of years of my life have been filled with a pervasive duality that took everything I had to offer to maintain. I'm ending that, but I'd like to write a bit about it first.<br /><br />When I was sixteen, I had my first espresso. I liked it quite a bit, but I didn't fall in love. That came with the second one. It was my first deliberate move against what I'd learned in the church. Contrary to what I had always been promised, it didn't make any decrease in my health and I actually started doing better in my individual events at tournament.<br /><br />Later that year, a boy told me he loved me. I didn't know what to do, and I ran with it. He taught me how to kiss, and he was pretty good at it himself. Later, he wanted a show of commitment that was more than I was ready to give, but I gave it anyway. Unlike with coffee, I fell in love with sex on the first time.<br /><br />I went back to the Fatherland again that summer, I was seventeen at the time. I fell in love with beer. I also decided I was never going to start smoking, after a single drag off of a poorly rolled and stale cigarette. That lasted a whole year.<br /><br />I enjoyed a year of hell at BYU. Hell is probably not quite a strong enough word, but it'll do. I went to church almost every week, in spite of my unconfessed sins. All to make my parents happy. Toward the end, I met all of you, and I decided that I was going to stay. I reneged on that one pretty quickly too.<br /><br />My summer was filled with beer and cigarettes, although I made it the whole time with only a cup or two of coffee. It was also filled with a lack of church. You know the story from there, mostly.<br /><br />I hope that this gives you some insight into my decision to leave the church. I got tired of lying to pass PPIs, I got tired of sitting for three hours listening to a message I neither cared about nor believed in. I could write a rather scathing report of how the church is untrue, but I doubt that it would appeal to my average reader. I'd even go so far as to say that I could beat any of you who wanted to try to argue the point with me, but I don't feel like it and it would be antagonistic.<br /><br />Regardless, it's time for this chapter to close. I've been happier since I've decided to leave, more fulfilled. I'm back on the market for a boyfriend though. Rather messy situation that I don't want to get into in the blog. I'm sad that with the close of the chapter, I have to close out several characters. I don't want to say goodbye to any of you. Let's not if we don't have to. There's a whole new chapter ahead, and who knows where it might lead. I hope that some of you might read on, as I begin a new chapter in the life of Stephen.<br /><br />-StephenStephenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01234050525776274442noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4137566040920939255.post-74389324989804076462007-10-03T22:00:00.000-07:002007-10-03T19:09:10.375-07:00Of Sheets and ForeskinsI was having a conversation with a good friend last night, and I was extremely tired. Accordingly, I could only focus on a couple of things and had awful ADD. The two recurring themes in this conversation were sheets and my new boyfriend's foreskin. I really really really want new sheets. If I could spare it, I would probably drop around 400 on new sheets. But then, who can spare that? I don't even know why I brought that up, seeing as how it has very little with what I actually intend to talk to you about.<br /><br />I had a conversation the other day with somebody who once called us boyfriends for a day. He had always told me everything, given me the privilege of seeing his inner workings. For a few weeks, though, he had been rather withdrawn (at least from me), and I believe he had been avoiding me. I managed to corner him one night when he was so bored that he decided to talk to me. He had, it turns out, discovered a lie I had told him several times, of a very serious nature. Whether I had hurt him badly, or simply angered him by doing so I don't know, but I know that since he found out there has been a marked change in his attitude toward me. He told me that the goodbye we said that night didn't have to be the last one, but I think we both knew that it wasn't true. He's avoided me since.<br /><br />The thing that I question is whether he's been avoiding me because of the lie, or because of my recent lifestyle choices. Either way, I do miss his friendship, but don't anticipate ever having it again.<br /><br />I've lost all track of days, but I'd say about a week ago now, Jay and I went on our first date. Jay is a kid I know from work, who's from the UK. We started "going out" a couple days ago. We were going to go to Fantasmic tomorrow, but then he asked me to Cirque du Soleil instead. Needless to say, I'm stoked. I love Cirque du Soleil.<br /><br />Anyway, I suppose that's about as much as you all care to hear about. I'm generally well and happy, and enjoying my life. All goals that I had when I came here. I'll try to post about an actual issue at some point in the future.<br /><br />-StephenStephenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01234050525776274442noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4137566040920939255.post-75108335876881292832007-09-07T01:00:00.000-07:002007-09-06T22:05:44.521-07:00Too Tired to TitleI'm so tired anymore, that I don't really know how to deal with it. My hot gay roommate (hereafter Josh) and I have had pretty much opposite schedules for a while, and nothing is really developing on that side of life. Maybe it's not so much opposite schedules as mine kind of encompasses his for a long time on both sides. I definitely worked like, 11hours a couple of days ago, and I might be doing it again tomorrow. I mean, don't get me wrong, I love the money associated with the hours and all, but jeeze it's exhausting.<br /><br />One of my coworkers and I had a conversation the other day that was pretty interesting. We'll call him Kyle, just in case he should come up again later. Well, Kyle is queerer than a three dollar bill. I've definitely met stodgy old married women with a dozen kids who were more attracted to girls than he is. The biggest give away is that he never talks to/about them, and never looks at them. Conversely, he always talks to/about guys, and looks at us. So the conversation went something like this.<br />Kyle: I just want you to know that I play for the straight team, not the away team.<br />Me: Huh?<br />Kyle: I swing for the straight team, not the other team.<br />Me: What? I don't understand what you're getting at.<br />Kyle: A lot of people here think I'm gay, and I just want to clear up that I'm not.<br />Me: Your sexuality is none of my business, but you really do give off a gay vibe.<br />Kyle: Exactly. Everybody thinks I'm gay.<br />Me: It's not like it matters.<br />Kyle: Yeah it does. I don't want people to think that about me.<br />Me: Whatever you want, buddy. I officially won't ask you out now.<br />Kyle(Loudly): Wait! You're Gay!?<br />Me: Yeah. Couldn't you tell?<br />Kyle: ... ... ... ... ... Subject Change.<br /><br />Rather than being repulsed, Kyle seemed to want to be my best friend after that. I don't think any further evidence needs to be submitted to close his case. He's pretty cute too.<br /><br />Anyway, I don't remember where I was going with that, but I promise I'll keep you posted on all of my escapades.<br />-StephenStephenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01234050525776274442noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4137566040920939255.post-23890685518041738142007-09-01T19:36:00.000-07:002007-09-01T20:05:22.253-07:00Would it really be any different?I don't even know where to begin, so I'll just start typing and hope it doesn't come out too horrible. I've been on a real hiatus from the church for a while now. As you know, I became an elder back in June, but since then I haven't really done anything. And that kind of includes going to church. I guess "haven't really done anything" is a little unfair though. The truth is, I've made quite a few changes in my life, and most of them aren't the kind that I would expect you to approve of. The thing is, none of my non-member friends seem to care. I mean, they care in a certain respect, but they don't hassle me about it and they don't change the way they act toward me at all. So I suppose the question would be, would it really be any different between us?<br /><br />Would it really be any different if I had started enjoying beers again? Would it really be any different if I smoked? Would it really be any different if I stopped self-identifying as a Mormon? Would it really be any different if I went back to having sex with men? Would we still be friends, who saw each other the same way?<br /><br />The first two started back at camp. I'm not addicted to either, I just happen to like them both. I haven't had a drink in a couple of weeks now, but you get the idea.<br /><br />Last Night, I was home alone and the Missionaries came to the door. I live in a gated complex with 24-hour security. I cannot tell you how much it pisses me off that they were in the complex. They said I wasn't the person they were looking for, unless I maybe happened to be a member of their church. I lied, and said I wasn't. They offered me some insecticides, and I chewed them out because they're bad for the environment. They asked if I had a place to go to church on Sunday, and I said I wasn't the religious type. They told me that if I changed my mind, their church was right down the road and that lots of pretty girls went there. I told them I was gay and they left. It was pretty remarkably awkward, but the point is that I told a bald faced lie when asked whether I was Mormon or not. Or was it? Am I anymore? I don't know...<br /><br />I still haven't had sex in quite a while. And it's driving me crazy. It's everything that I can do to hold back, and I'm not sure why I'm doing it. My hot gay roommate is driving me nuts, but he's not the only one. So many gay guys do this program... and so many of them are really good looking. I'm strong enough to keep myself from coming on to anybody, but if they started coming on to me it would pretty much all be over.<br /><br />The moral of the story? I don't know... I guess it's that I'm really feeling some antipathy toward the church right now. It would be so easy to just not go back... So easy... I doubt I'll go back to church before January. I forgot to mention that I'm way way way behind on tithing. The word January made me think of Tithing Settlements (in a round about way). I'm pretty sure that if these are the things that determine my success in the next life, I'm screwed. I just want out. I wish that nobody in my Family had ever even heard of the church. I wish that I could be free from the constant second guessing of myself and the uncertainty of it all. It's not just being Mormon and being Gay that's hard to balance. It's being Mormon and living a life that's full and enriched in which I do everything that I want to... That's the one I'm sucking at... And I just want out. I want to be able to say, "I quit" and have it all end... But it doesn't work that way, does it?<br /><br />If I weren't Mormon, would it really be any different?Stephenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01234050525776274442noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4137566040920939255.post-17706614941513965032007-08-30T17:12:00.000-07:002007-08-30T17:48:49.749-07:00Sometimes Goodnight Means GoodbyeIt's been a long long time since I last blogged. Well, not really that long at all, only a month and a half, but it feels like an eternity, like I last blogged in another life.<br /><br />The summer went mostly well. I almost got myself fired a few times, but they never decided to actually do it, and they gave me an invite to return in whatever capacity I like, so all is well. During the summer though, I decided that I didn't really want to go back to school in the fall. I looked over my options, and now I'm in Lake Buena Vista, Florida, working for the mouse. You know. <span style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">The Mouse</span></span><span style="font-weight: bold;">.<br /><br /></span></span>Last Sunday, erm, two Sundays ago now, I was in a car crash. It was a pretty nasty one that totaled two cars. My back kind of went to heck after that, but I saw a chiropractor and a massage therapist, courtesy of my friend's car insurance, and I'm doing much better now. I hope you all know that it wasn't an easy decision for me not to come back to you this fall. I thought about it for a long long time, and I decided it was what was in my best interests though.<br /><br />Anyway, I'm working at EPCOT, but to protect my anonymity I shan't reveal my work type. My roommates are pretty cool people, and I'm getting on well with them. One of them is gay and really cute. I know he thinks I'm cute too, but I really can't tell if he's flirting with me or if I'm just seeing what I want to. The other two are straight and so-so in the looks department. They're all really nice though, and I think I'll be very happy for the next few months.<br /><br />In other news, I'm taking a trip to South East Asia in the spring. Stops so far include Sepang, Kuala Lumpur, and Bangkok, with more coming very soon.<span style="font-weight: bold;"> <span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-style: italic;"></span></span></span></span></span></span><span style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-weight: bold;"></span></span></span>I'm really looking forward to seeing this part of the world, and I've always got room for more travel buddies. I suppose that's about as much of an update in my life as I really have the energy to write right now. If any of you want to come visit me at Disney World, that would be pretty exciting.<br /><br />-StephenStephenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01234050525776274442noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4137566040920939255.post-73282318081157995142007-07-14T14:35:00.000-07:002007-07-14T14:47:03.831-07:00I'm still alive, I swear.I mean, the title just about says it all. I promise that despite my aweful hiatus, I am still alive. I am also, however, at the home a friend who has no idea about certain things right now, and accordingly I may have to be a little bit vague in my references to said things.<br /><br />Pretending is kind of exciting and stuff for the first little while, but it does get old eventually. Especially when you notice people starting to bash on other people for what you're pretending not to be. It gets old actually really fast in such circumstances, but that's just a part of life, isn't it? There are a few people on staff that I would really like to be able to talk with about such things because I'm pretty sure that they're the same way, but if I'm wrong I could (theoretically) get fired for it... Bah. Come January 2008, that all changes though.<br /><br />In other news, my health has been steadily impoving since last Thursday when I was bedridden. I seem to be doing better, although the solid green discharge from my left nostril was a little bit disconcerting. The nurse says she thinks I have a bacterial infection, but the discharge has since (three days ago) returned to a regular clear color, so I'm not quite sure what to do. Obviously, seeing a physician is on the to do list, but I don't know when I'll be able to find the time to actually do it...<br /><br />My employment is becoming more and more questionable. Management is talking about firing me because of an incident involving a car and the service road while campers were present... They wont because it's too hard to replace a director in the middle of the season, but they're sure talking about it. I'm thinking about quitting on the other hand... any management that's willing to make mountains out of mole-hills like this isn't the kind of group that I want to work for.<br /><br />Well, that's about all I have time for, other than to say that I miss you and I never get any mail. Sorry I won't have time to read or comment, but next weekend for 100% absolute sure I will have that time, and I'll probably waste a senseless ammount of hours reading said comments. And hopefully seeing a doctor...<br />-StephenStephenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01234050525776274442noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4137566040920939255.post-60504606026739030682007-06-28T13:43:00.000-07:002007-06-28T13:47:00.621-07:00Boo!I'm still alive, I swear. It turns out that the wireless router magically dissappeared (got stolen) and so there is no high speed internet access for those of us not in upper upper level management at camp. I had about five billion things I wanted to blog about, but I really have a couple of minutes before I have to go. A far, far better post will follow on Saturday!<br /><br />In the mean time, I'm feeling really really old. My bones just don't move like they used to, and a 16 year old called me "sir". I'm only 18... sir is my father. But I've got this really cool costume that makes me look like an 18th century naval officer, which is pretty much just the coolest thing ever. Or at least, a pretty cool thing. I'll take pictures and put them my facebook when I get a chance. In other news, I updated my address on my facebook, if any of you wanted to send baked goods or anything.<br /><br />And my braces are off. I wonder how that will affect my kissing?<br /><br />-StephenStephenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01234050525776274442noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4137566040920939255.post-2535055257628162882007-06-20T19:06:00.000-07:002007-06-20T19:39:56.947-07:00Reluctant FarewellAnybody that reads my blog with a degree of regularity knows that I'm leaving soon. I'll probably only really be able to use the internet on weekends unless it's super important, because I will have lots of other things on my mind at almost every other time and the internet access is a good mile away from my cabin. What this means is that unless I update tonight, or early tomorrow morning, I probably won't update until Saturday, and then probably only once a week from that point.<br /><br />I do, though, have cellphone reception! So that means that any time after 9:00 PM Pacific time, you can call me and I'll probably answer. Or you can call at any time during the day and leave a message. I absolutely love having messages on my phone. It makes me feel loved.<br /><br />So, anyway, if we chat before I go, then I'll say my farewell then, but otherwise consider this to be me giving you a hug and saying Godbwye. I hope that it's all well with you until we meet again. And the next time we talk, I hope that you have had lots of wonderful adventures to tell me about. Heaven knows I'll have lots of good stories for you. Anyway, until the next time. Godbwye.Stephenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01234050525776274442noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4137566040920939255.post-21919212694613100282007-06-19T22:29:00.001-07:002007-06-19T23:35:24.147-07:00On CuriosityI don't know about you, oh wonderful people who read my blog, but I personally have a big problem with curiosity. You see, I find it rather difficult to control this particular aspect of my life. If there is information out there, I tend to want it. Even if it's not something I really care about that much, there's very little that you could tell me about anything that I wouldn't be at least somewhat interested in hearing.<br /><br />Regrettably, that's the healthy side of my curiosity. There's also a dangerous side, a side that becomes a monster uncontrollable. This side only rears itself when there's something that I really really want to know. I've been known to completely neglect just about anything and everything to satisfy my curiosity about certain subjects. That includes neglecting my own personal well being. Tonight, I had such an experience.<br /><br />I was talking to a couple people online, but the conversation lulled. During lulls in conversation, I tend to start thinking about mostly unrelated topics like, "what is lint actually made of?" and "do they ever come up with really awesome plaids by complete accident or is there like a mathematical formula for it?" Usually, it's a harmless question that I ask, like one of those, and a brief stint on Wikipedia will provide me with the information I need. Ocassionally though, I've asked slightly more dangerous questions. We needn't get into some of them and the (usually horrid) adventures they've led me on, but I would like to talk about the one tonight.<br /><br />The question that I posed was, "so what exactly happens during an endowment ceremony." I know you're all cringing. I should have cringed at the very thought of it. I knew it was stupid to look, but I did it anyway. I justified, "nobody has ever specifically forbidden it to me." But I still knew I shouldn't do it... I looked. Just a peek. I looked up "Mormon Endowment" on google, and I picked a response off of the first page. It was the exact text of the Endowment Ceremony, transcribed from a tape recording. This was the first red flag.<br /><br />I read a little bit. Right down to the part where the First Presidency says that everything in the Endowment is sacred and that there is a solemn obligation not discuss it outside of the temple. This was the second red flag. Note that one red flag is enough, and two red flags is clear and convincing evidence that I should not be there. Even so, I continued further. I read days 1-5 of the film completely. All the while, I kept thinking to myself, "don't do it, Stephen! Don't read on! Tell somebody what you're doing! They'll tell you to stop, and you'll stop! Just STOP!" I started reading day number six, checking back to google chat regularly, nay feverishly, hoping that somebody would say something, or that I would tell somebody, and then it would all be over.<br /><br />And then I came to a realization. I didn't need them to tell me to stop. I softly and clearly uttered the word "stop," even though I didn't really intend to say it at all. And then I stopped. And I closed the tab that it was in, and I went off to Google chat to say goodnight. Next thing I knew, I was here writing this blog about curiosity.<br /><br />Now, my life experiences aren't any good to anybody, including myself, if there isn't some reflection and analysis. The good news is, I didn't learn anything new. Other than a little bit of what the ceremony sounds like in the very very very beginning. I assume it was only the very very very beginning because that page was ridiculously long and I had only moved a very little bit on the side bar. The information presented though was nothing new to me. The other good news is that I stopped. I knew that what I was doing was wrong, and I stopped. I'm rather proud of myself for that.<br /><br />The bad news is, I knew that something was wrong and I didn't stop immediately. I knew that it was wrong and I just kind of kept going. Somehow, that strikes as remarkably unwise. I ignored clear and convincing evidence that what I was doing was a bad idea. And yet, somehow, I did it anyway. I stopped, and that's good, but I started, and that's bad.<br /><br />So, what I have to say about curiosity is that although we are all faced with things about which we are curious. We have got to be wise enough to know when to resist it, and we've got to be strong enough to actually resist it when we know we should. I still don't know what happens in the rest of the film, and I still don't know what happens after the film, but you know what? I'm OK with that. Someday, I'll find out, and until then, I don't need to peek. I don't want to peek. It is hubris for any man to reveal what God has ordained mystery, and it is hubris for any man, including me, to think that he need not wait and hear mystery in the proper time, at the proper place.<br /><br />-Stephen<br />P.S.<br />I'm sorry to those that I told I was going to bed. I didn't mean to lie to you, and in fact I did intend to go to bed. I hope that you can forgive me for that. Really, truly, I'm sorry.Stephenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01234050525776274442noreply@blogger.com6