Is the break over?

After over 4 years and 4 Christmas holidays not setting foot in Utah, I went back to Utah to visit this year, and become reacquainted with family and the changes that have taken place with everyone and myself.  That being said, I ended up at Starbucks for at least one day.   I actually like Starbucks, I was just hoping for something of a local flavor.  Fat chance it seemed in the northern suburbs of Salt Lake City.  

Five days in to my trip I still hadn't had any alcohol since the plane ride.  The family party, which was normally on the day after Christmas, had been moved to the following Saturday because my sister's family were still getting over their illness.

I wanted to get some alcohol for the party but I had no idea where these Utah state controlled liquor stores were and I had no GPS.  I ended up calling a friend in New York who talked me through it over the phone only to arrive and find out it didn't open until 11am and I wasn't going to wait around all morning for it to open.  So, I sent a text to my brother-in-law to pick up some Jack Daniel's Honey Whiskey on his way in later that day.  I was hoping for the single serve bottles but found out you couldn't get them in Utah.  So we had a large bottle that he and I drank from.  The other half my dad decided he wanted it, much to my surprise. 

Early in the week my mom and I went driving around the valley looking for a new winter coat as I badly needed one.  We tried REI, Cabalas, A.A. Callister, and I ended up finding some nice winter riding boots.  I had my eye on them for years.  It's hard not to buy tall boots when they are right there in front of me, and they fit.  My mom offered to pay for them but I declined as they were an impulse purchase we were there to buy a coat and we should stick to the plan no matter how much it costs us in the end.  You might get the impressing that I like shopping.  Nope.  I don't.  But having my mom there assisting, made it easier.

But one thing led to another and I realized I couldn't wear my new boots around unless I had some new Levi's to tuck into them.  I packed light this year and only brought basic pants and shirts, nothing more different than what I would normally wear to work.  So we went to look for pants.  I was quite surprised that the 501 button fly ones fit me really damn well, despite my fat thighs and butt and huge belly hanging over my belt. They made my boots look damn good on me.  I wore my new jeans and boots pretty much the entire week. I even wore them home on the plane.

I had hoped that I might get to meet up with some of my furry acquaintances in Utah whom I had gotten to know over Google+.  But they were all too busy with family which is understandable this time of year.  But I did have a chance to meet up with my friend Jen whom I had gotten to know through her blog and the Facebook ex-Mormon groups.  She has horses!  And it turns out that impulse boot purchase paid off as I got to go riding.  Well sort of, the horses were not in the mood, so we relented and let them eat.  But we didn't get off.  We sat on them while they ate.  We showed them. 

I'm so glad we sat there.  The smell, the touch, the movements, of these animals allowed me to dissipate my anxiety.  The anxiety that hit me when I pulled into her driveway.  It's hard for me to meet people I already know in person.  And this one hit me particularly hard and quickly.  In the 90 minute drive it took me to get to her house, I was feeling calm and joyful to be going.  But upon approaching the house and pulling into the driveway, it hit me hard.  I couldn't get out of the car.  All I could do was send a text and let her know I was here.  I'm sure she realized that without the text  but I sent it anyway.  Thankfully she had gotten past her anxiety of meeting me and came out to the car to get me.  And that is what I needed.  I think I had become consumed with the fear of rejection, and when she didn't reject me, I started to feel ok again.  Still, the anxiety still took time to dissipate, and I still found myself pulling back a bit, not really relaxing and letting myself be all there. 

My family hasn't been all that troublesome in my life since coming out.  They may be Mormon, but they take the religion on their own terms, which is what I wish the rest of the Utah Mormons would do.  I even found myself in a conversion with my dad and later with my brother-in-law about BDSM.  I had a brief moment when I felt awkward when my dad asked about MAL and what I did there.  But as with my mom, the conversation was challenging but never got awkward.  The conversation was friendly as I talked about what it meant to me and many people and that for many, its therapy.  Just like my mom, he gets it but doesn't get it at the same time.  Just like how I get why they remain Mormons but I don't get it at the same time.  And just like that, the conversation quickly moves to politics as we commiserate on the pathetic state of Teabagging Republican dumbasses or the embarrassment that is the Utah Governor and the stream of Attorney Generals.  There was little to no mention from anyone about the gay marriage drama happening at the time.  The few mentions were from a random nephew or my dad reading to us joke making fun of the Governor about in City Weekly.  

 Times have changed.  I would never have had the freedom to be who I am twenty years ago.  So it's good to know just how far, not only I've come along, but the rest of my family as well. And in many ways, they had passed me.  I hadn't been aware of it because I had moved out 20 years ago.

My main reasons for avoiding them was their general emotional dysfunction, co-dependency and the triggers from them and of being in Utah.  I needed the space to find and break those triggers.   And now gauging my experience over the week, it seems that many of those triggers have gone, mostly within the last year.   

But, I'm still not so sure that I'll ever move back there.  My last day there I spent the day with my brother-in-law.  We went to one of the local micro breweries in Layton and attempted to order some tasters for the beers they severed.  I sat in stunned silenced as the waiter tells me that I'm restricted to only two 4 oz tasters and then 1 beer per hour after that.  Only two tasters?  One beer per hour?  I wonder if Utah will ever legalize adulthood. 

What's next? Bestiality?

In paraphrase:

SG: "So if gay marriage is legal, what's next?  People are going to want to marry their horse?"
  
OG: "Why in the hell would I marry my horse?  I already own the god damn thing?"

 

Horseback Riding With Myself

I would love to say that my story with horses has come to a wonderful conclusion.  I dearly love them as I love all animals, but I haven't been able to reconcile my past experiences as well as my new found ones.  I still feel at times ignorant and undeserving of the knowledge and still a bit frustrated that I'm not as good of a horsemen that my fellow riders are.  I'm also insanely jealous of them as well.  Most of them are teenagers or younger and have the most uncanny, if I could say, natural ability to communicate with their equine companions that seem so unreal to me.  And the worst thing about all of this, is how out of place I feel as a 40+ salt and pepper hair, gay man, in a class of female teeny boppers, who can ride circles around me and jump fences, all the while I'm just trying to keep my horse from cutting the corners around the arena.

I'm currently not riding right now; I've had to stop in late 2010 because of health problems that have made it unsafe.   Problems with an untreatable, proximal positional vertigo being the main one as well as excessive weight gain, unpredictable heart fibrillations that cause dangerous lightheadedness, and a still as yet undiagnosed muscle atrophy, weakness, and neuropathy,  have made it difficult to make any progress on anything let alone dressage.  I don't really know if my riding days are over or not.  I hope that I can return to normal health.  But I just can't feel confidence in that happening as things seem to continue to slowly decline.  And to make it worse, other than the vertigo and heart issues, the doctors can't seem to find anything medically wrong with me. 

I've really been missing my time just being around those great creatures.  Grooming, hugging, leaning on, sitting on, smelling their sweat, picking their hooves, pulling their tails, giving them treats, whistling little songs to them while they crowd around me out in the paddock,  rubbing them on the brow and behind the ears until they practically fall asleep while their snotty snout is pressed into my stomach.  I've gotten so close to them now that I have gotten the point where I wish I could be one.  It's that way with all the animals I've ever made a connection to.   I see them as innocent, free spirits, always in the moment, with wonderful beauty and pure unconditional love.  Who wouldn't want to be them? 

Not to get too far off subject, as if there ever is a subject on a free-write post, but ever since I was 5 years old, I've spent much of my waking imagination in silent contemplation wondering what it would feel like to actually be one of the many animals that have occupied my waking sub-conscious.  I say 5 years old because that was how old I was when I had my first lucid dream that involved an animal.  It was a tiger. In that dream I also became a tiger and experienced an intimate and spiritually deep connection to the tiger that appeared to me.  I also felt a strong desire to never want to leave that dream and have pondered the experience off and on for decades since.  I don't know why I still remember that dream so vividly 35+ years later, but it was a life changing experience. One in which I don't really know how to explain, and it continues to be meaningful to me now, as well as many other similar experiences that I've had since, both in waking and non-waking dreams and meditations.  And aside from the apparent, if not superficial, similarity to the comic strip Calvin & Hobbes, it was nothing like Calvin & Hobbes, although I really do love that comic.

Only in recent years have I bothered to seriously look into these dreams to find out more about their possible significance and meaning.  And quite surprisingly, I've found many communities for that aspect of my life spanning from Therianopthy, to Native American spiritual traditions to the Furry Fandom.  So at this point, I can honestly claim I'm a furry and oddly enough, I actually couldn't care less about all the stigma and stereotypes associated with furries. They are my people, drama and all.

So what is the point of me saying all of this?  I don't know,
just to get it off my chest I suppose.  I haven't had a pet in my life for over 10 years.  That last one was a female tuxedo cat, who I still really miss.  We had a very special bond, as I've had with all the cats I've ever had.  She was always begging me to hold her up to the lights so that she could get at the moths.   I don't think I've ever gotten over her death.  She was suffering from an Alzheimer's like disease and it totally fucking sucked to see her go through the states of confusion she often went through.  She was only 12.

(1989-2001) picture taken circa 1994

Anyway, I wish I had the strength to just go down to the riding school again, but I also can't shake the feeling of being out of place there as if I don't belong.  It was easy for the most part to forget about that feeling when I could just jump on my horse and trot around the arena as it was just me, the instructor, and the horse.   But when I'm not riding, I become acutely aware of the dozen people there, and I am the only male.  And of course, the troublesome pink elephant in the arena that I wish wasn't there despite the common stereotype that all male dressage riders are gay.  I don't live in a gay friendly part of the country and there is always someone reminding me of that fact.

Some days I really hate my circumstances.  I really resent the shit my life has now.  And quite often I forget that in many other ways I have it really damn good!   It's as if one aspect of my life got amazingly better while others have reached their shelf life and are about to expire.  And it's those expiring parts that I never had the chance to make something of them.  For each day that passes, I find something new to regret.  

But, to avoid making this post a complete downer, I will include this cropped picture of me wearing my riding boots.  I'm on a horse.

Yeah, yeah, I know, toes forward! 

Horseback Riding With My Dad

My older brother affectionately called them Dumbass and Shithead.  Euphemistic terms of endearment I'm sure.  And in many ways, a direct reflection of how our dad thought of us as kids.  But the horses' real names were Stormy and Lancer.  Stormy was whitish in color. Lancer, a much younger sibling to Stormy, was black.  I wasn't a fan of most horse names.  I usually just referred to them as "The Black One" and "The White One" because I couldn't think of anything better.

They were, if I recall correctly, part Arabian and were rather feisty. They weren't the first horses my dad brought home though; the first one was a whitish mare named Lady Mary.  She died of something when she was around 8 years old.   She had only been with us for about a year when she developed some health problems, I thought, at the time it was probably from eating moldy hay, I didn't really know and wouldn't know until just a few months ago when talking to my mom about this story that I found out what really happened.   Lady Mary was pregnant and her uterus had detached.  I can imagine that she had suffering pretty badly.  She was not very old.  Shortly after she died, my dad got Stormy and Lancer.  But they were both sold about a year later so we could relocate to Northern Utah.

Growing up, I never knew much about horses despite the fact we spent a good number of years living in the southern Utah ranching country, where pretty much everyone was some sort of cowboy or ranch hand.  Not us though, we were somewhat city types even though we had never lived in a big city.  A few years before we had horses, when I was about age 9, my dad, on a few occasions, would disappear to help a friend from work setting up things for the local rodeo.  Occasionally my brother and I would go with him but we were too young to help.  I vaguely remember a scary incident with a raging bull that got loose, but I never saw my dad on any horses. 

Most of the time, while dad was off doing whatever it was he did while helping with the rodeo, my brother and I would just play under the arena stands, searching for money that had fallen there during the last rodeo event.  Bonus when we actually found paper money.  But most of the time it was a few dollars in coins, which we would then go spend on candy.  In those days, a few dollars bought a few bags worth.   Dad really didn't pay much attention to where we would run off to.
 
Also, during those early years, I once got to sit on the back of a pony at a birthday party.  I was by myself and the pony was there for riding so I got on jerked the reins and kicked just like what I saw on TV, but he didn't move.  I felt stupid sitting there so I got off.  I felt even more stupid when another kid grabbed the reins from me, got right on and took off, riding around the side of the house as if there was nothing special about it. 

A few years later, we moved to another small town in south-central Utah.  Even though it was a small town, it was in a much larger ranching community.  In the previous town, the primary industry was the saw-mill, here it was farming and ranching.  Many of my school classmates were avid horsemen or horsewomen who would ride in drill or rodeo events. 

I was always made to feel like I should know about many things that I had never seen before growing up.  But no one really offered to teach me anything and oddly, I never feel it was my place to know. Although, I was rather envious that I wasn't given the opportunity to learn about horses or riding other than a token effort to get a Boy Scout merit badge, which I was never able to get because I didn't have a horse or, by the time we got some, I didn't get the support from my parents to get acquainted with them.   But at the same time, I was ok with it, because, again, I didn't think it was my place to know about horses, and also, I was somewhat scared of them anyway.

My older brother once attempted to ride with a friend but was bucked off and bruised up pretty badly.  My dad was always telling us about how they were easy to spook and that you should never stand behind them or they'll kick you and that they could be very dangerous and we should stay away from them!  And yet, I also had been led to believe from somewhere that horses would never purposely step on you.  I have since realized that even though they may not do it on purpose, they will still step on you!
 
We, as city types, didn't seem to fit in here even more than in the past town we lived in.  But, it was here that my dad decided that he wanted a horse.

We all thought at the time that his reason for getting a horse was mainly for show.  But perhaps he wanted something more out of it.  He was much more motivated to do things to keep up with the Jones's, as he was to satisfy some unknown want for something.  But perhaps it was practical.  After all, we had 2.5 acres of alfalfa that had to be cut and baled at least once during the summer.  More if we had actually watered it.    But with a horse, that field was turned into complete dirt in a matter of weeks.  We didn't have to cut and bale that damned hay anymore. The bad news was we had to buy hay.  Lots and lots of it.  I was very allergic to hay as a kid.  VERY!  Eyes swollen shut for days sort of allergic.

We were not equipped to handle horses.  We didn't have shelter for them; we didn't have any way to keep the stored hay from getting moldy.  We had no means to ride them, no halters or lead ropes, no saddles or bridles or even any grooming equipment.  We didn't even know how to ride them even though the first two had been "broken in".  But ultimately, they were just out there as pretty things to watch.  Not that there's anything wrong with that, they were wonderful to watch, but they were also a burden to take care of especially when we had no idea what we were doing. 

We didn't even have a proper fence to keep them from getting out.  The fence we made only had two wires and it was not electrified.  The lowest wire was high enough for a horse to slide under.  All it took was just one little roll in the dirt, in the right place next to the fence, and upon standing again, one of them would find  himself on the other side.  It was fine when only one horse got out because they hated being separated.  They would stay by the fence looking confused by their predicament until someone could help them back over.  It was this little fence trick that prompted my brother to start calling them Dumbass and Shithead.

My dad brought these animals home with no intention of doing anything to take care of them, that all fell on us.  Just like us kids -- brought into the world to be someone else's responsibility.

We were never instructed on what to do about anything.  Mowing the lawn, installing a sprinkling system, driving a car, or taking care of a horse, it didn't matter, we had no idea.  If we asked in any way what we were supposed to do, my dad would invariably say, "The fuck if I know.  Figure it out, I don't care."  Or on rare occasions he would try and be helpful by saying something like, "Just give them a little hay and make sure the thing is full of water."  The "thing" was a large plastic garbage can.

But sometimes, if we did not execute the chores in the exact manner that he was expecting, never mind that we had no idea what he was expecting, we would get a Final Dismissal with him yelling, "What the hell are you doing?  I can tell you've never been around a horse before!" as if we should fee shamed for the truth.  At which point he would do it himself, swearing and screaming at us the entire time about how useless and stupid we were.  

It was like that with everything; just replace 'horse' with any other noun that is applicable to the situation.  And sprinkle in some choice profanities as adjective such as, "I can tell you've never driven a goddamn truck before." or "I can tell you've never installed a fucking sprinkling system before!"  It hurt because it was all true.  I had never done any of those things before.  I was only 13 years old.  You can't expect me to know all this stuff, can you? 

It was a late fall evening when dad decided that it was a good idea to try and saddle up Stormy and take him for a ride.  He had found someone who loaned him a saddle and bridle.  I was curious but scared that he would ask me to put them on thus making me go through the usual routine of disappointing him for being stupid.  I hadn't seen him do any of this before so I wasn't even sure if he knew how to ride the horse.

But apparently, as far as I could tell, he did know how. He slid the bridle bit in Stormy's mouth and mounted that confusing array of leather straps on to his head as if he had always known how it was done.  Once he had him saddled, he got on as if he had always been a rider and rode the horse around in a slow walk for a few hundred feet.  Even my younger sister had gotten to ride the horse as my dad led it around.  I was no longer envious, I was jealous.  This man was holding out on us.  Why wouldn't he teach us anything?  

I wanted to ride, so I went out there and asked. 

"Sure, just hop on."  He said.

Ok, How? I said to myself.  My nose was even with Stormy's shoulder.  I mustered up the courage, realizing the verbal abuse that would erupt if I were to ask, but in this case, I needed to know so I went ahead and asked.  Sure enough, the response used at least one 'fuck' word.  But he did explain which foot to put in the stirrup and where I could grasp to pull myself up.

Sadly, I had very weak upper arm strength, which caused me to struggle while climbing on.  The whole time I was scared I might accidentally kick his hind quarters and spook him.  But the worst thing about it, as I was getting on, was that I was feeling extremely embarrassed, exposed and vulnerable.  Not because someone took a picture of me, which I didn't appreciate, but because here I was on a live animal and I didn't know what I was doing.  And even then, it wasn't so much that I was afraid of the animal, but that I was afraid of doing something wrong that would elicit a verbal and abusive tirade from my dad.

Once I got situated, I sat there, looked around at my surroundings, everything looked different at this height. I looked down at the horse, his ears were focused on me and it felt like he was standing rigid, calm but not relaxed.  I wasn't sure really how to read the horse.  It all could have been more of how I was feeling.  I was definitely tense and unsettled and quickly growing impatient.  

The sun had just set a few minutes earlier; it was getting dark.  I finally asked him, "So, what do I do?"  

"The fuck if I know.  Just ride him, you should know."  He said.

"How do I go?  Or turn?"  I said.

"That's what the reins are for."  He said.

"I know, but how do you use them?" 

"Jesus Christ, I can tell you've never ridden a horse before."

And there it was, the Final Dismissal.

I was done.  Despite how often I would hear him say that, it would still sting every time.  I sat for a few more seconds until I could no longer stand the shame of the moment.  Then I decided that this would never be for me; carefully and clumsily I slid off the horse, walked in the house and never got back on another horse for 27 years.

Winter Beach

I love the ocean beach in the winter time.   The air is crisp, and fresh and not a chain smoker in sight.

The landscape is serene with clear blue skies, endless horizon, birds...

more birds...

my boots...

and a beautiful a Belgium draft horse... 

I could spend all weekend out here...

Which is exactly what I did.

All pictures: January 15-16, 2011: Ocean City, MD

Formspring Questions

Well, I jumped on another bandwagon and added the little Formspring thingy-ma-jiggery-doo to my blog a few weeks ago.  I thought, what the hell?  I'm slowly becoming a bit more settled in my life, and don't feel like I have to jump up and down about everything that goes on, for the most part anyway.  I'm starting to grow up a little bit I think.  Not that I've reached an emotional maturity that matches my physical age, but I'm just saying, you know, that I'm less of an asshole.  Actually, I don't really know what I'm saying.

Anyhoo,  

I'm open to fielding questions from my blog readers (I think I have about 9 of them) in case someone wants to get to know me better.  But the questions don't have to be about things gay or Mormon or whatever.  You can even ask anonymously.   Hell they don't even have to be questions.  Of, course I reserve the right to ignore them if they, well, you know, are not coherent, but I might have fun with them anyway.  BWA HA HA HA!  etc.

I've already received my first question about a week ago and I'm going to post an answer soon.  Proof that I intend to get around to things eventually.  Not that I procrastinate or anything, I'm just not all that ambitious and I like to take my time on things until they are "perfect".  Also, I'm trying to "suffer" through some back pain right now from diving off a horse and it makes me grouchy, tired and prone to putting things off.  But that's to be expected.

In the mean time, check out what Kiley is doing.  Now THAT is what I call ambitious.  Especialy #28!

Kiley is just awesome.  I could totally be a lesbian for Kiley!

National NOT Coming Out Day

Apparently, I'm not as out as I thought I was.  In fact, I'm probably not out at all if being out means I'm going to happily announce on Facebook on "National Coming Out Day" that I'm out, which I'm not going to do.  Besides, if anyone on Facebook actually looks at my profile, he or she will see that my interest is in men and that I have a large mass of LGBT and other sexuality groups that I have "liked".   That's as "out" as I feel like I can do for now. 

I have "friended" many people from work, high school, my mission as well as from other times of my past who I know have not looked at my Facebook profile, and in a way, I'm glad.   I just don't want it to be a big deal.   But, I'm also screaming inside to talk about it.  It's the pains of living alone and isolated.  I just want to talk about it with people I know I can trust, because the rest of them just want to tell me how I need save myself by following Christ, and it's not just the Mormons that do that either.

I had lunch with a co-worker last week, who I also take dressage lessons with, and I mentioned to her my troubles with the "big elephant in the room" and the problems I had living and working out here.  I wanted to talk to her about the incidences I've had with some co-workers and their incredibly insensitive and homophobic rants during some corporate social functions, which HR effectively ignored, and the bullshit, insulting, gay and trans jokes that get tossed around as if LGBT people are just another group of freaks to made fun of.  

I know that simply mentioning that elephant issue made her uncomfortable so I didn't elaborate.  She's one of the many people I know out here that doesn't have a problem with me being gay but at the same time, does.  Still, I give her credit for trying.   But because I didn't say anything, she said that my elephant problem was mostly in my head.  Granted, I admitted that a large part of it is because of my fears, but I needed to explain to her that I've had it all turn bad enough times that I haven't been able to get past how it puts me on edge all of the time.  And then I gave her an example of a mutual co-worker whose entire family has shut me out of their life because of it.  I've written very briefly in passing about him on other blog posts.

She did admit that this place wasn't the best place for understanding.  That is coming from someone who has lived here for over 20+ years.  You would think that such a place, given its heavily touristy economy, would have a bit more diversity.  But I guess there really isn't any evidence to support that.

So, that feeling where I don't know where I stand with people continues.  Every day I have to find out if some new person that comes along is going to either let me live my life and wish to be part of that or they are going to instead turn around and make it needlessly difficult.  Already I've got a new office mate that is proving to be problematic.  And most of the time my solution is just to stay in the closet and not say anything that would clue anyone in.  And in order to do that I have to keep everyone at a distance, even the people who I have gotten to know and appreciate their friendship such as my dressage instructor and the other people I ride with.  Because, like I mentioned before, when that elephant came up, the friendship ended.  So, I keep it all bottled up in side until I'm ready to explode. 

To end a friendship over something as inane as person's innate sexuality is ridiculous.  But it's understandable that it's going to happen when there are people in the world who teach homophobia like Packer, Oaks, Faust, Kimball, Bednar, Ballard, Hafen, Holland, Cook, Monson, Wickman, Clayton, McMullin, Hinckley and many others.  And that's just a sampling of the Mormon leadership.

I've just got to find a way through this.  I don't know what that is going to be right now but there has got to be a way.   This has got to get better, right?  With all of those videos going around the Internets about it getting better, there is got to be a way it's going to get better for me.  So that I will be able to safely make that announcement on Facebook and not give a shit what the outcome is, even if it affects my job.   I want to be able to feel safe when proudly placing that picture on my desk at work of my future Partner/Husband/Boyfriend/Sir/Master/pup/boy or whatever the hell the title(s) will be if that time ever comes, just like every other God Damned privileged heterosexual does.

My Right to Wear Spandex

The following Facebook status was entered by one of my friends:

[Name withheld] good to be alive and good to feel like I'm walking to a bee gee vibe... I'm staying alive..

Then a few seconds later it was followed up by:

[Name withheld]... that doesn't give me the right to wear spandex and strut however..actually..hmmm..

I don't get this as a joke.  I understand that it's supposed to be funny but for some reason it bugs the ever living crap out of me.  Who the fuck says people have to obtain the right to wear spandex? 

I understand that this is underlying a joke about our poor self-esteem issues regarding our own bodies.  I can understand that, I had just completed posting pictures of me and my fat ass, trotting around on a horse minutes before.  And yes, I even made a comment about how that skinny-ass horse made my fat-ass look fat.  They were both self deprecating jokes, so, to be fair, since I was bothered by someone's joke, I can understand if my joke might bother someone else.  (Other than my use of the words "fat" & "ass") I seriously don't intend to offend.   I think. 

However, I believe my joke is less likely to offend.  I'm not trying to say anything about what someone chooses to wear whereas my friend is.  I'm directly mocking my body despite the clothing, whereas he is directing people away from his unshapely body type by mocking spandex.  Granted, I did make a comment about my riding breeches making my ass look fat.  But I was actually wearing them!  My friend, on the other hand, has probably never worn spandex in his life.

Spandex, made from a supper stretchy material called Lycra!  A type of clothing that accentuates the human (especially male) form in lovely ways, feels great, and it's fun and practical to wear.  I wear it.  Granted, with my current fat ass, I don't wear in public.   Or if I do, it's not visible.

Ok, I think I'm rambling now and I might be starting to talk in circles here.  I just wish we weren't so judgmental to others and ourselves about our fat asses in spandex.

Now, that fat ass thing, isn't really the core issue for me though, because what's hitting me in the back of my head about all of this judgmental spandex wearing is the truth of the matter, that even if I had a skinny, sexy ass, the judgmental spandex wearing would continue and it would even be worse.  Why?  Because I'm a man.  Simple as that!   And only the "faggoty" men wear spandex.  That's what I grew up hearing in my neck of the Utah Mormon cultural landscape.  God I hate that word "faggoty"!  OK, to be honest, I only remember hearing it once, but goddamn, it rang in my head for years!

Now, I'm not talking about the spandex common to biking; I'm talking about the spandex made famous by those big hair metal bands from the 80's.  That spandex caused me to stare uncontrollably at all of the male crotches who wore it.  I would secretly watch Friday Night Videos in hopes to catch a glimpse of a spandex clad, skinny ass, with a big bulge in front.   I didn't care who they were or what the music was.  I was just interested in the spandex and how that spandex was filled.  Bonus points if the spandex had a bright colored print.

Basically, spandex was all about sex.  There I've said it.  Sex!  Fetish!  And since I was just entering into the pubescent stage at the height of the 80's hair bands, my hormones raged.  The more my hormones raged, the more I wanted to see, have, feel spandex, the guiltier I felt, the more distance I would publicly put between me and my fetishes, the less likely I would ever have of wearing it.   Sad, isn't it?  It wasn't until well into my late 20's early 30's did I finally buy some spandex.  And even then, I did it as anonymously as possible over the Internet. Talk about living in complete and utter shame! 

OK, now, I didn't suddenly develop a spandex fetish during that time, I already knew I had one as young as 5 when I wore some tights for a little school play.  Yes, at age 5, I had experienced an indescribable emotional thrill from wearing them.  Emotional!  Not sexual!  So, those so-called experts who like to say we develop fetishes for things because of our misdirected sexual outlet are all idiots.  There may be some truth to that, but in my experience, I haven't been successful at developing fetishes, I can only discover them! 

Ok, if I go on much more with this I won't be able to post it to this blog.  This was supposed to be about how someone's joke triggered a mild frustration in me that is masking a deeper seething rage.   Yes, it's true, as much as I would like to think I've put my past behind me, I still have some baggage.  And I've been discovering over the past few years that my baggage is mostly about sex.  This has caused me some real and embarrassing problems in the physical intimacy department. 

Actually, I still have symptoms of Post Traumatic Stress Disorder.  This may seem like a joke at this point but it's not.  It has really been frustrating getting past a lot of the emotional and spiritual abuse I went through.  I'm doing really well considering, but something this seemingly innocuous will pop up on occasion and really send me into a dive.    I just want to fucking scream!  I believe my cultish upbringing has robbed me of being able to experience fully one of the joys of being human.  Why?  Because somewhere along the way, a few people had some serious hang-ups about sex and wanted to make sure everyone else in the Mormon hive-mind had them as well, so they institutionalized them into church doctrine.

Erm, I wonder who they were?  Anyone?   

Fuck them!

10+1 Favorite Things

Reina tagged me.

I don't normally participate in these tagging games but this time I felt like I needed to.  Not out of obligation but for my own benefit.   I seriously thank Reina for sending it out there like this.  I probably wouldn't have thought of doing this had it not been for her.  It turned out to be just what I needed to lift my spirits.

My list ended up going to eleven. After all, don't all good things go up to eleven?
Anyway, here they are in no particular order:

1. Animals
There is nothing that grounds me more than the non-human living creatures of this planet.  There is something very awe inspiring about creatures that don't spend their lives trying to be something they are not.  They just exist, do their thing, and are happy to be doing it.  Many creatures feel the emotions of fear, anger, joy, happiness but they are not stuck on them, they blow it off and move on.   Their innocence transcends the complexity of the human mind.  Even though the human mind can give us tremendous understanding of our world, it can also be deceived, which creates needless suffering.  Animals are not capable of inflicting suffering upon themselves as we humans do. 

I mostly grew up with cats, dogs, horses and chickens.  Although, I never allowed myself to develop any bonds with dogs and horses until my later years.  I'm still working on birds though. Not sure how but I see myself finding that path through falconry.  I don't know.  We'll see.

Anyway, for some reason I have always easily bonded with cats.  Every cat I have ever owned over the years developed a special bond with me as well.  This bond was never shared with any other member of my family. 

One special bonding moment came when I was around 12 years old.  I woke up one Saturday morning to the sounds of little mews in my bedroom.  But they weren't just in the room.  They were in my bed.  Right there leaning up against my back, as I was lying in my side, was my mother cat and her five newborn kittens.  Rather than hiding away to have her litter as she had done in the past, she had them there with me.  While I was sleeping, she had pressed her back up against mine, as she had done every other night to sleep, but this time rather than find a secluded place in the house, under the bed, closet etc, she felt it safe enough to stay where she was.  I will never forget that.   Nor will I forget my dried crusty bloody pajamas as I was tearing them loose from the crusted bloody bed sheet.   Poor kitty she didn't like me leaving.  I pushed the blanket up to her to fill the space I had vacated.  She was content with that.

2. Dressage
Naturally, because dressage involves riding horses! And I love riding horses, although, I haven't been doing it for very long.  It took me awhile to rediscover the fascination I once had with horses growing up, a topic that needs a post of its own someday.

The neatest thing to me about dressage is that it's just as much about developing a strong, agile and athletic horse as it is about developing a strong, agile and athletic rider.  And the gentle and subtle communication between horse and rider is another special bond that both fascinates and amazes me.

No matter how hard a day I've had at work that week, the moment I step into the stall or walk out to the paddock to retrieve my horse, I no longer care about the world.  I'm fully present for this majestic, powerful, and gentle creature as we teach each other how to work as one.

3. Music
I love music.  I compose music.  I have been composing music since I was 5 years old.  At around age 12 my aunt gave me a few sheets of paper she had written on that showed me how to read music, how chords were constructed and how to transpose into different keys.   Within months, I was now writing things down.  By the time I entered high school, I had composed a huge body of work.   My final semester of my senior year in high school, I was taking 5 music classes out of the 8 periods.  I studied music during my first stint in college although I was never able to complete it.  I toured for one summer with the Blue Knights Drum and Bugle Corps. And during my second stint in college studying to be a Computer Engineer, I still kept my performance and composition skills alive by composing and performing with the percussion ensemble.  A few years ago, my brother-in-law commissioned me to compose the soundtrack to one of his short films.   

Needless to say, much of my life revolves around music.  I'm always looking for new and interesting music that I've never heard before.  Melodic and orchestrated works from modern or classical composers of jazz, heavy metal, folk, elevator, progressive rock, industrial, chill, Celtic, Andean, Latin,  etc.  The list goes on and on.  Too many to mention.  There are genres that I don't like but this post isn't about them.  They are few anyway.   On any given day at work, my iPod will be playing a mixture of an easy listening arrangement by Percy Faith followed by the hard pounding edge of the Dutch heavy metal band, Within Temptation, to be followed by a smooth cello concerto by Samuel Barber and so on.  It's all good.

4. Coffee
I don't drink it for the caffeine; I drink it for the flavor.  So naturally, I'm always buying the pricier stuff.   I was introduced to coffee at the tender age of 10 by my grandmother.  It was the most awesomest thing evar!

5. Sex
Yes I'm going to say it.  Sex, and all that sex can entail.  And it can entail a lot!  Kissing, cuddling, fetishes, BDSM, puppy play etc. and yes, it has to be the gay version.  I have a different blog about this so I don't need to elaborate any more here.  :)

6. Beer 
Not just any beer, it has to be the dark malty kind.  Yummy, malty smooth and malty!  I don't drink beer or any alcoholic drinks to get drunk, I never get drunk.  I drink beer for the flavor!  I just wished it didn't have so many gash darn calories!

7. Internet 
Ok, who DOESN'T love the internet?  Those who are reading this blog I would expect at least like the internet.  If you didn't like the internet, you mostly likely wouldn't be here.  Right?  

For me it's primarily an escape to distract me from the tedious and frustrating existence that I have living in this rural and socially foreign region of the US.  Yeah, there is some bad to that but I'm going to focus on the good.  The internet has accomplished for me the following: 
Allowed me to stay in closer contact with family and friends.  Provided a place for me to connect with other like minded people so that I can have a voice on topics that I would never have the opportunity to discuses otherwise.  Find hook ups with people with like minded interests.  Find dates with people with like minded interests. Look up crazy-ass things on Wikipedia, Google and lds.org.  And most importantly, it was instrumental in allowing me to find a particular picture of a friend of mine, which triggered my coming out process that forever changed the course of my life for the better. 

What would I have done without the internet?  

8. Computers and Programming 
Although, many might include this into internet, as it does require a computer to get on the internet, I think of it completely different.  I have been programming computers since I was 12 years old, long before the internet existed.  If I wasn't off tinkering on the piano or banging away on the drum set, I was on the computer, writing programs.  Anywhere form silly little things that played songs or plotted pretty designs on the monitor to elaborate database programs that I used to keep track of my huge reel-to-reel tape collection.

Now, I use the computer for almost everything I do.  It's the primary tool I use for my employment, to build my music compositions and recordings, write, blog, watch TV and otherwise communicate with the rest of the world.  The computer is the only appliance in my life that I would want to have with me if I were stranded on a desert island.  Assuming of course that there was a place to plug it in and I could get free Wi-Fi.

9. Walking and Nature
Granted they are two separate things but I'm combining them as they go hand in hand for me.

I walk a lot.  When I go out walking, I average about 4 miles per trip.  And depending on time, I may do several walks a day ranging from 3-10 miles.   I have lost a lot of weight doing this.  But the other reason I walk is to clear my head.  It helps me work out the anxiousness that builds up from sitting in a windowless office all day or help me blow off anger and frustration at the world in general. 

Even though there have been times I've walked on an indoor track with some friends, I prefer to only do my walking outside.  Walking outside could mean anything from walking around the town or city to hiking in the park or woods.  But ultimately, anything with a natural setting is ideal and preferred even if I have to drive a while to get there.

Since there are no mountains, I have to make do with the sandy beaches of my favorite place out here, the Chincoteague National Wildlife Preserve, which is mostly on Assategue Is. VA.  On any given day of the year, and I've pretty much hit that place every month throughout the year since 2007, I have seen more varieties of wildlife in that short time than I ever did growing up in rural Utah.  And watching these animals in their natural setting while I'm out communing with nature is a spiritual and profoundly grounding experience.  (see Animals)

10. Photography
I love the idea of making art out of an instantaneous moment in time, to capture a glimpse of the real word for a split second.  What would never be seen in that exact state ever again, is now captured forever.  And out of that moment is born something new.

Images can capture beauty and emotion that transcend from the time they were taken.  And for me, as I'm a very visually oriented thinker, such images draw me in, inspire, and stimulate me in ways that other art forms cannot.  Not even sculpture or paintings.  I hope to be featuring more of my photography in my blogs in the coming years.
 
11.  Family
Last but not least, my family.  This could be an entire blog post of its own.  In fact all of the things on here could be.  But let me just say this, without my mom and dad and many of my siblings, I wouldn't have made it this far.  I wouldn't be here to tell the tale of my life.  They have been the only true friends I will ever have and I can't even begin to express how fortunate I am.  I'm not even sure I can comprehend the magnitude of that fortune.  I'm fully aware that many others don't have what I have when it comes to family.  It breaks my heart.  I wish they could have mine. 

My parents have always had an open house to people over the years, many of them struggling in some why or other with their lives.  By giving them a space to crash for a time demonstrates the amazing generosity they have that not even I have been capable of giving.  I'm still the black sheep in this family, but this family is welcoming of the back sheep. 

Truth be told, it wasn't always like that, but it changed.  Back in the late 80's my mom found the courage, strength and open mindedness to drive her to find the path that would work when the life that was handed to her was failing miserably.   She questioned and challenged the status quo, looked beyond the LDS church to find real answers, real solutions!  By doing so, she brought the rest of us with her.   Now, here we are today.  From deep dysfunction grew strength, love and acceptance.  It's not perfect but it's all that it needs to be. 


tagging...
The rules of this tagging game are that I am to tag 10 others.  I'm not comfortable with doing that but if you feel inspired by my list, go for it, and let me know by posting a comment here.

UPDATE:  What the hell!   I realized there are a few people I really want to know better so I'm just going to go a head and risk it by tagging them, dammit!    I don't know if they will ever see this but it's out there.
Mel
Laruen T. Hart
fonsy
Stella 
Andee 
Quiet Song 
Maureen 
ControllerOne
UPDATE AGAIN:  looks like Quite Song already posted before I completed my tag list!  LOL!

My Yearend Evaluation 2009

I had a moment of clarity the other day.  When looking back at the year, I had completely forgotten about all of the awesome things that happened in 2009.  I didn't blog about most of them.  I probably should have or at least made some mention of them somewhere.  Hell, I don't even have any journal entries of most of them.  I seem to just want to stew in the drama and I failed to really dive into a lot of the fun and positive moments, and there were many.

So what are some of the cool things that are worth mentioning?  Well, for one, I had my first real gay date this year!  I lost my gay virginity during that date too.  Just a few months before my 40th birthday!  That 40-year-old-virgin thing was a stigma in my family that I DID NOT want to try and live down.  Seriously!  How funny is that? 

Well, I guess you would just have to understand my family.  

OK, so what else happened?   I don't remember a lot of stuff.  I should have written it down.  I think the "losing my virginity" thing has completely overshadowed anything I care to think about at the moment. 

Anyway...

I think this goes without saying but I'll say it anyway, this blog is a small part of my life and it's an even smaller part of my daily mental process.  I have used it to open up an even smaller window into my head.  Sometimes the view was an honest and sincere searching of my soul, other times it was wrought with whiny, self-centered, self-pitying and otherwise pathetic pandering of my ego.   But, either way, it was the shit in my head at the time it was written, so at least that accounts for something.   Right?   I think it does. 

I'm a normal, happy, person most of the time.  I have an OK job where I write software (sometimes) and I do it really well.  I have hobbies in music, filmmaking, writing, photography, renaissance festivals, dressage, walking/hiking, biking, BDSM, yoga, blogging etc.  The list goes on.  I stay busy. 

But like all normal people, I have my bad days.  And it just so happens my bad days get dark, really dark.  Dark, in that I will have those moments where I swing to the irrational suicidal thinking.  Rest assured those moments have been happening with less frequency and shorter in duration.  Two years ago, I would be in a stupor of suicidal planning for months at a time, long gut wrenching months of anxiety and despair.  Now, the anxiety bit is missing and the rest only lasts for about an hour, then it's gone.

However, no matter what, I always feel a deep heavy sting moving into and during the holiday period.  That sting I noticed became more and more prevalent around 2004 after the last of my siblings got married.  It reached its worst in 2007 right after my mental breakdown and has tapering a little bit since, although, this year felt like a step back somewhat.  That's something to explore some other time.  I may even write about the event in 2007 too.  I still have some work to do to sort it out though.

Most of my posts happen after I've been pondering a concept or situation in my head for a while, in some cases months.  Some of them have been rants, some of them haven't. But all of them have been a process for me to clarify as to who, what, when and where I am, and what I'm trying to accomplish.  And in the end they have succeeded in getting me to see, albeit sometimes grudgingly, what my hang-ups really are. 

No matter what the realities of my mental state, conscious or unconscious, I needed to sort some things out in a public way.  So this blog, in addition to the comments I got back, really ended up giving me some profound self-realizations.  Not the ones I was setting out to realize, but nothing ever happens the way we intend. 

Because I worried too much about making my blog some sort of self-important, quixotic, beacon to the world, I got too self absorbed which weighted it down on the dark side.  Not that would be a worry to me but, -- and here is me pandering to my readership again -- it did leave the impression that I am unhappy.  Ironically, unhappiness was precisely what I was worried people would think.  Well to be honest, the last three months I was very unhappy.   And, as much as my ego hates to admit this, I was very much using my blog to bask in my own self-induced victimhood.  Not that there is anything inherently wrong with that per se, it is what it is.  However, it ultimately accomplished something good in the end.  In order for me to understand what was happening, what was going wrong for me, I had to travel that path of wrongness until I hit a brick wall.  It seems unfortunate but how else do we learn?  I have a hell of a lot of book knowledge on these subjects, but awareness and perspicacity only comes from experience.

I'm proud of myself. I really came though this year.  After all of that coded nagging in my writing and day to day life, I finally cracked the code.  I finally faced my fear of what people think of me.  Not only did I crack the code, I processed it so that I would no longer get stuck on it again.  I had a sudden and dramatic shift in my thinking when I hit that point.  So, from this point forward, I know things are going to be very different.  I don't know how or in what way, but I do know it's not going to be the same old shit that I have been doing.  Granted, it will probably be the same old shit I write though.  The ups and downs are still going to be there.  But, will I care what you think?  Yeah, in some ways I will, but not in the same way that I've cared in the past.  It's different.  How different?  It's wait-and-see.  I don't expect any reader to notice but I will and that's all the really matters.

It amuses me when the media looks back on a year well before the year was even over.  I can't really look back on something until it's in my past and I've had a chance to let hindsight and my shady memory shape it into some sort of perspective.   It's still too soon to get any real sense of the profound impact this holiday season has had on me.  All I can say is that it was profound enough to cause a shift in my thinking, a shift in my consciousness.

So, looking back on the year, I have been able to come to two absolute conclusions.  1) I realized I had set out on this blogging adventure for completely the wrong reasons.  2) No matter what the original reason was, it didn't matter; I still learned a shit-load about myself in the end.  

So, here is to a new year that just happens to be called twenty-ten. 

Happy New Year!

Before I go off on a heavy handed tyrannical rant, I would just like to pre-apologize for the offenses that I will deliberately be dishing out.  OK, to be honest, this is only a partial or rather fake apology.  What I'm really getting down to is that this is just a preamble to some serious and offensive ranting and I'm not holding back.  Why I'm even bothering to warn the reader?  Why don't I just start ranting?  Because I seriously don't want to hurt anyone's feelings with what I'm about to say.  As I'm currently in a state of some deeply hurt feelings myself, I wouldn't wish such things one anyone else.   With that being said, I'm going to start off my little rant by first inviting anyone who might be offended to seriously fuck off.  I'll recap on that later.

Anyway...I just got past the holiday season.

Oh My Fucking God!

I have a love/hate relationship with this time of year.  But this time around it's mostly the hate.

How did the year end and how did the new one start?  It ended with a crash and a bang and bunch of other complete bullshit.  It was an otherwise great year that came together in the most fucked up holiday season ever.  And it's still not over yet.  In fact I think I'll still have a few more months of this shit before I might be clear enough to start thinking and feeling grounded again.  It's not to say I'm in a constant state of rage.  I do have moments throughout the week of positivity, but it's only about 0.6% of the time.  I think that equates to about an hour per week where it's just me and the equines.

I debated if I should even bother listing all the shit that has gone down since October but I don't think I will.  There is just too much of it.  Perhaps it would have been better had I made small blog entries for each incident as they happened.  But it really came down to the fact that I'm still relatively anonymous on this blog and after considering the implications of revealing the nature of the shit that's gone down, it would seriously compromise my identity.   Besides that, listing all that shit would incite a pity party.   It's bad enough that I pity myself as much as I do.  Getting it from others doesn't feed my ego in healthy ways.  And right now the combination of all this shit going down and the affects of Seasonal Affective Disorder (SAD), regress me to some serious irrationality.  Besides, all of the shit that's happened is actually incidental and doesn't really have any real meaning.  The important question to ask is: How I've been handling it all?  To which I would respond: GAH!!! 

Needless to say I've got so much pent-up anger right now I could bite anyone who crosses me...until they bleed of course, and then I would let them go.  I'm not a vampire and don't like the taste of blood.  Don't worry.  I am seeking counseling. 

But for now I feel like ranting about shit that I've wanted to rant about for decades.   And to make it even worse my rant is all a fucking cliché.  When ranting about the so-called Holiday Season how could it not be? 

When I see people walking around wishing each other "Merry Christmas" and "Happy New Year" and all that crap, I want to gag.  And yet I find myself going along with it anyway so I don't come across as a complete asshole.  But deep down inside I'm screaming, "Whatever!"  That alone pisses me off further.  It's hypocritical and I'm angry at myself for playing the game.

It's a pointless and mindless time of year where people try to act extra nice.  Why now?  Why not all of the time?  These holidays and their dates are utterly arbitrary to me.  Take New Year's Day for instance.  That one is especially pointless to me.   It is a week and a half after the winter solstice.  To me the solstice is more like a new year than January 1.   A solstice is an actual measurable physical phenomenon that can be used to mark the end and beginning of a solar cycle.    January 1 is just a number on some made-up calendar.  Who made up that calendar anyway?  And why does that calendar say the year has to be 2010?   Why not 8302 or some other number in say, base 12?

And then there is the Christmas holiday and all of that crap.  Set aside the fact that December 25 is not even the actual date of the birth of the Christian religion so to speak.  But that doesn't really matter.  What matters is that it's the one time out of the year where all of the hypocrites can come out in droves and be EXTRA hypocritical.  Personal experience has allowed me to witness many so-called Christmas holidays where Christianist behave in some of the most unchristian ways ever seen.  That really doesn't bode well for celebrating the birth of their Savior™.

Another thing that doesn't bode well is that most of the modern Christmas traditions claimed by some Christianist come from the Pagans!  Yeah, PAGANS!    After all, to trick the Pagans into becoming Christians they had to assimilate their traditions.  But don't worry; it was all done in the name of Christ.  Too bad that Christians don't know who Christ really is anymore.  Not that they would care anyway.  And they especially wouldn't give a shit what a godless heathen such as myself would have to say about it anyway.

Sorry folks, I guess I just don't have the Christmas spirit.  Well, I guess if I stick with just the hypocrite part I do have it.  I get that.  But the rest of it?  Whatever!

Am I waging a war on Christmas?  I don't think so.  Christianist are doing it themselves just fine.  I'm just watching them go at it while I do my own thing.  Such as: no lights, no tree, no music, no shopping, no family, no handouts and no Christ.  Selfish?  Meh.  If you want all that stuff, great!  Go for it.  I don't care.  Just don't expect me to do it to. 

God, I'm glad the holidays are over!

I guess this makes me a scrooge or a curmudgeon or something.  It doesn't matter.  I'm hated by one group of people or another no matter what I think, say or do.  So I'm going to do my own god damned thing from now on and if you like it, join me, if not, FUCK OFF!  I'm serious.  I invite anyone who finds my little rant offensive to seriously fuck off.  I don't mind at all.  It may sound like I mind because of the seemingly harsh language but at this point I'm really not talking directly to anyone.  It's more of a proverbial use of the phrase to anyone in my life who really does need to fuck off.

Postscript: It was the Christians who came up with the word 'Pagan' to call these unbelieving, polytheistic, heathen, low life, evil people.  I'm proud to be called a Pagan.  It's like taking back the word 'fag', which I'm am one of those as well.  :)  Happy Xmas!  (Nov 20, 2010)