Another Strange Coincidence...

Just a short note tonight.

Ty Mansfield was a Missionary in the Augusta, Maine Stake back in 1998ish, when I was living there with my mother and siblings.

We always loved Mansfield, and when we learned that he had sold Cutco Knives door-to-door to pay for his mission, we named his favorite Cutco knife, "The Spatula Spreader", the "Mansfield Knife" in his honor.

Through my mother, I reconnected with Ty on Facebook and discovered that we had many mutual moho friends... and I asked him that famous question "are you one, too?"

His response was simple--

I co-authored the following book, to answer your question:
http://deseretbook.com/store/product/4772927

I feel simultaneously foolish and privileged to have been served by Mansfield while he was a missionary. I guess now I have to read the book--which I bought a good year ago but never read.

Small world, huh?

Were The World Mine, I'd Be Thinner...

Not a long post today, but wanted to give a couple of updates:

Tonight I'm going to a screening of a film and panel discussion with Andrew, a gay christian who reads mine and Chedner's blogs and lives in Los Angeles.

Here's the blurb:

Do I Look Fat?
From the personal stories of seven gay men who have struggled, or continue to struggle, with eating disorders and body image issues, Do I Look Fat? uncovers reoccurring and interconnecting themes that support this "self-esteem disorder." Film will be followed by a discussion. Directed by Travis Matthews, 2005, 58 minutes.

I'm looking forward to making friends with a member of our "extended" family, and maybe learning some information about body image problems.  Though I don't have an eating disorder, I definitely have body image issues.

Secondly, after watching a trailer for "Were The World Mine" on D.'s blog, I went to Amazon and bought the movie--or so I thought.  When it arrived, I realized that I'd bought the soundtrack.  The movie has not yet been released on DVD!

After an initial feeling of disappointment, I ripped the tracks and began to listen.  I am still not through the whole album, because I was stopped dead in my tracks by the amazing track title track "Were The World Mine" (click to listen)

And I will sing that they shall hear, / That I am not, I am not afraid, / I am not afraid / I know not by what power I'm made bold, / But still you flout my insufficiency / The more my prayer, the lesser is my grace.

I am not afraid! I shall not fear! But I know that my boldness comes from my knowledge of my heavenly father's love, and the love of my friends and family.  The church, in all it's follies, took my prayer, and made my grace lesser by taking the joy from my life and telling me that somehow I was "lesser".

Best wishes and love to all my friends everywhere.  Try to remember that I'm hear for all of you if you ever want to call me or IM me.

Geocaching and other Fun Times

I probably should be in bed right now, but hell, there's too much to talk about.

And no, I didn't watch the Oscars, though I've seen Dustin and Sean's speeches and they made me happy.

Today, almost on a whim, I decided to pack my bike onto the back of my car and drive to visit beautiful San Jacinto.

I took my bike and road it through the fresh air of San Jacinto. Mind you, manure could be considered pollution, but that almost makes it seem more fresh to me--real country air. I rode just over 8 miles, which isn't overtly impressive, but not bad, either. Here's my route:

I found a geocache there, and then headed back south to Jack In The Box for a quick bite to eat.

I stopped and did one final Geocache on my way back home.

And one final exciting occurrence--while driving home in I-10, I picked up a middle aged woman with a suitcase who's care had broken down and drove her about 50 miles to LA. It was kind of nice to have a travel companion, and I was really pleased that my selfish trip could be turned into an opportunity for service.

Then I got home and did laundry, and spent WAY to long on this blog post.

Goodnight friends!

An Amazing Turn Of Events!

Okay, I literally had the most crazy, serendipitous, coincidental happenstance yesterday afternoon! I was literally floored and all smiles and energy for the rest of the day. I have to share this with you!

So during some down time at work, I was perusing the "Strictly Platonic" m4m section of craigslist, (I know what you're thinking, but I really was looking more for friends or dating, hence the platonic/misc romance section.) and I came across and ad titled "i want to die... - m4m - 19".

In his post, he talked about how he was depressed and wanted to be dead--he wasn't going to kill himself, but he just needed someone who was around his age who he could talk to about it, who understood.

If you've been reading my blog, you know that I was in a similar place this weekend, so I responded and basically condensed my last two posts into an e-mail. I told him that I was 22 and I'd been there, and if he wanted to chat about it, he could IM me.

And so he did.

Christopher told me that he was very grateful for my e-mail, and that it was evident to him that I "got it". He said he felt weird because had two or three close friends online, but he felt like talking to strangers. That's not weird at all, in my opinion. I told him that you want someone totally removed, so you can share only what you feel is relevant and not be judged based on pre-existing grudges or opinions. I think that made him feel validated, which I feel is always vital to do--when someone is down, you need to validate them, tell them it's okay to feel shitty, and that they're entitled to feel how they feel.

After some chit-chat, Christopher (figuratively) turned the mic over to me, and this is the transcript of what happened (cleaned up a bit for ease of reading)

Christopher: so if you don't mind me asking, what are your issues? do you want to rant?
Christopher: i mean
Christopher: just bitch about any and everything without me judging you or thinking they are insignificant
Ezra: Well, I don't mind sharing with you
Ezra: it's pretty straightforward on the surface, actually.
Ezra: Obviously, I was browsing the m4m platonic personals, so you can probably figure I'm gay.
Christopher: i wasn't going to ask, but had a feeling
Ezra: Well, I only came out in September.
Ezra: I was raised LDS (Mormon) my whole life.
Christopher: AOFMASDIHASOIHC"ASDOFIHASNDOIMASDIHOSHAS
Christopher: fuckkkkkkk you
Christopher: awesome!!!!
Christopher: ME TOO
Christopher: omg
Christopher: best friends
Ezra: Are you serious?
Christopher: haha
Ezra: WOW
Christopher: ok go on
Ezra: Dude, welcome to the Moho club!
Ezra: (Mormon Homosexual!)

Ezra: moho!

Christopher: time for a virtual hug
Ezra: HAHAHA
Christopher: awesome!
Ezra: *HUG*
Christopher: well my heart just went crazy beating
Christopher: there are so few of us
Ezra: That's awesome. Yes, there are very few

Christopher: or rather
Christopher: you know what i mean
Ezra: I know lots of gay mormons (at least 20) but most of them live in the Salt Lake area
Christopher: yeah i know just a few
Ezra: that i've met through the moho queerosphere
Christopher: i mean i know there are a lot
Christopher: just not as many that admit it
Ezra: OMG you've just made my day.
Ezra: :)
Christopher: and VERY few that are out and STILL consider themselves mormon
Christopher: seriously
Ezra: Right. Do you still consider yourself mormon?
Christopher: well
Christopher: haha
Christopher: good question
Christopher: but i think you know what i mean
Ezra: I consider myself definately culturally mormon
Ezra: it'll always be part of me
Ezra: I see no reason to throw the baby out with the bathwater in terms of all the good things the church represents
Christopher: thank you
Christopher: thank you
Ezra: but basically, I came to the realization that there was no future for me in the church
Christopher: BECAUSE!!
Christopher: you can't keep going to youth activities
Ezra: and one sunday, I just stood up after sacrament meeting i stood up and realized i wasn't coming back
Christopher: and elder's quorum is just AWKWARD
Christopher: and you can't serve a mission nor do you really want to...
Christopher: and it's like...
Christopher: why am i still here?
Ezra: Exactly

Our conversation continued for quite a while, and we talked about a lot of things--but needless to say, I told him we have to hang out.  He said that sounded good, but "first and foremost", he cautioned, "I have someone right now".

I laughed.  I told him I'd be lying if I said that it hadn't crossed my mind, but that I was mostly just interested in getting to know him--one Moho to another.

My father always used to say that when life is full of serendipity and coincidence, and things just "fall into place" it's because you are in harmony with the universe, and heading down the right path.

:) I'm all smiles.

We Are All Enlisted

This morning was glorious--bright, clean and sunny, a spring chill in the air.  Air moist and sweet with the moisture from the rain of the previous days.  I felt good, and I started singing Hymn #250, "We Are All Enlisted".

We are all enlisted till the conflict is o’er;
Happy are we! Happy are we!
Soldiers in the army, there’s a bright crown in store;
We shall grin and bear it by and by.

If you didn't skim those familiar refrains, you'll realize that I'd unconsciously substituted "win and wear it" with "grin and bear it".

I started laughing out loud, and I looked heavenward and smiled.  How long had I been singing this wrong?  I had been an unwilling soldier, conflicted about my sexuality within the ranks of the LDS Church.  I had grinned and borne it my whole life--these "new" lyrics make perfect sense--and that bright crown of glory would be mine if I just fought the good fight for the rest of my life, smiling away like a chucklehead (thanks, Greg).

No more.  From now on, life is not going to be a burden to bear.  It's God's most glorious gift to his children.  We are that we might have JOY.  And with that, I will leave you with this photo, which should make your day bright.  It makes me smile--It's me, probably around 6-7 years old, in a dress.

Have a great day, everyone!

Emo-licious No More

Hey guys.

I was going to apologize for being so emo-licious in the previous post, but I realized that there is no need to. I need not be ashamed for getting depressed. It was what it was, and there is nothing to be sorry about.

I'm grateful that I have this network of people, my close friends and family who send me their love and their prayers every day. I realize that as down as I get sometimes, I always come around. Because I can't stay down when I realize how fortunate I am.

Thanks for everything. Get angry, yell and scream, feel suicidal--it's okay--you need to let the feelings out, or they grow, like a festering wound. Just don't wallow in them forever. Count your many blessings, name them one by one.

So here goes-- 25 things I'm blessed with.

1. My health.
Yes, I got sick this weekend, but I'm pretty much healthy as a horse most days. Especially now that I'm hitting the gym, I feel better than ever most days.

2. The best siblings in the world.
I just do. You may think yours are great, but mine are WAAAY better. :)

3. Having lived in many different parts of the country.
It's helped me be an open minded and loving individual. If I'd stayed in the Mormon Utah Bubble my whole life, I can't even pretend to imagine where I'd be. Probably dead.

4. An amazing body.
When I get past my own body image issues, I realize that I have a great body, a wonderful body, with strong, powerful legs, slender waist and big, broad shoulders. I have a clear complexion and a cute face. I'm very flexible. My body is able to store energy in the form of fat for lean times... it's able to use that energy for other purposes later. In the words "my body machine is super keen." (That's a very obscure reference, btw).

5. The ability to change the things I don't like about my body.
Thank God I'm not disabled, or ugly, or mangled or burned--I'm just overweight. And with patience and determination, I'll shed those pounds. I don't need them any more. I'm done with my shield. I'm ready to go into the world un-armored.

6. My job.
In this economy, I am immensely glad that I'm employed in a well paying job with a small company that is training me and teaching me and essentially allowing me to build a network, should I ever need to find new employment!

7. My maturity and courage.
When I encounter a problem, I might get depressed, but I always win--I attack the problem, finding a solution, even when it's scary.

8. The internet, and its power to help me to never feel alone.
You are all like my extended family. I'm so blessed that we have this tool, this marvelous wonderful tool called the internet that allows us to find each other and lift each other up. If I had known just ONE gay Mormon, setting the example some of you are setting, I probably would have had a much healthier childhood.

9. Hot water.
It seems silly, but every time I am in the shower, I realize that I have the most decadent luxury in the world in my apartment. It makes me immensely happy.

10. Ice.
Another decadent luxury that I can't possibly imagine life without. It's actually one reason I don't look forward to traveling in Europe.

11. Not being stuck anymore.
Even though moving forward is often scary and painful, I'm glad I'm not dammed up--stagnant--anymore. I used to see stories on TV about women in abusive relationships, and I could never understand why they wouldn't just leave--escape from that toxic environment. But now I can relate to what it must be like--I've had a 22 year long abusive relationship with the church, and every day I imagine going back. But there is only forward motion.

12. My bike and my ability to ride and steer with NO HANDS.
I can't tell you how fun it is to ride down the Chandler Bike path in Burbank, steering gracefully around the pedestrians on the sidewalk, using both hands to conduct the music on my iPod as a sail through the brisk evening air. In spite of still feeling kind of sick today, I took this little trip today:

And while I was on this delightful ride, (partially in the rain, which I know is great when you're trying to get healthy) I was able to meet up with some friends for a few moments, get a Grande Carmel Apple Spice drink from Starbucks, and snap the photo at the top of this entry, which I kinda like for some reason. I think it's the power lines, I've always been a fan of power lines.

I wasn't able to get the rainbow on camera, because by the time I went inside to get it, it'd gone.

13. My iPod.
Music helps me get through the day, and having a constant companion that doesn't mind when I sign along to the tunes is invaluable.

14. My workout is yielding results.
As I've stated previously, I've lost about 20 pounds since last summer. If I was more committed, I could lose more, but low and slow seems to be the best way lose weight in such a way as to keep it off. I feel healthier, and more energized now that I attend the gym 3-4 times a week.

15. No one has disowned me.
At the end of the day, my coming out experience was practically painless--at least the pain that was felt was generated solely from within, and not from anyone's outward ignorance.

16. I have sufficient for my needs.
My income surpasses my expenses, and that's without penny pinching. I'm very very blessed.

17. Knowledge that I'm a good person.
I just know it. Sometimes I get down on myself, but I realize I'm doing my best, and I have a real desire to serve, and it part of the reason I know I'm a chosen son of God.

18. Knowledge that God loves me.
Isn't that the greatest thing? I wish I could get a hug from him, but I guess I'll have to deal with his proxies--my friends and family--to feel his love in a physical way. But I do know this is true, even when it feels desperately lonely.

19. My whole life is ahead of me.
I've figured out A LOT for a 22 year old. I am often told that I seem to have it really together for someone my age. In fact, a couple of the guys I've dated have said that they normally go for older guys, but I seem to have my act together... I definitely feel old sometimes.

20. All the times I've screwed up.
Because they make me humble, and help me to learn and grow. One of my favorite quotes is from John N. Mitchell. "The finest steel has to go through the hottest fire". So it shall be with us.

21. Singing!
See #13. I love singing, and it makes me feel good.

22. Living in Southern California.
As much as I miss New England, I am very grateful to be here. The sun generally makes me happy, and California has allowed me to progress in a way I was never capable of back east--Prop 8 catalyzed me into action regarding my sexuality and my future, and in turn motivated me to start getting in shape. It's all wonderful.

23. Each day I get to start over.
Forget regret, or life is yours to miss.

24. Forgiveness.
I think that God sometimes gives us permission to make mistakes and sin. Not because he condones it, but because he is omnipotent, and understands that sometimes, no matter how many times you tell a child that they shouldn't touch the stove, they need to get burned to really understand. For some, they are content to be told and live in faith. But I think I'm that idiot that has to feel the pain himself before he gets the picture. Thankfully, those wounds heal, and all can be forgiven.

25. Me.
This is hard for me to say, because I'm not sure this is something I'm really ready to state, but I'm so exceedingly grateful to be me. To have had my experiences, to have my mind and soul, with all it's hardships and trials, I've had a truly beautiful, rich existence. I'm incredibly lucky to have seen all that I've seen, felt all that I've felt, and accomplished all that I've accomplished. God has put me in a special place in this world, and I still believe that I'm here for a very special purpose.

So hopefully this post will be a cheerier read for all of you. Life is worth living, if only because I need to meet all of you in person one day!

Thanks,

Your friend, Ezra.

I'm Warning You...

I'm warning you in advance, before you start reading, that this is probably going to be the most rambling flood of dis-organized, emo-licious, swear filled, angry and depressed post I've had in a while. It's my way of crying out for help. Yes, I'll admit that, I'm posting on this blog because I need validation, and I don't know where else to get it.

So if you're wise, you'll just ignore this post.

Here comes the flood.

FUCK THIS BULLSHIT RIGHT HERE, RIGHT NOW.

I'm sick. I'm sick in the head, and I'm not just talking about my head cold. I've been lounging around my house all weekend, and I thank God that today is presidents day, otherwise I'd have venture to work SICK the the fucking rain, which isn't supposed to happen, I live in LOS ANGELES for crying out loud.

I'm sick because I continue to torment myself on a daily basis. Yesterday I was already sick, and I was sleeping on my bed, and the phone rang, and I was so happy that someone would call, hoping maybe it was my older sister, who I love very dearly. But no, it was my God-Damn-Home-Teachers™. The good, Mormon me would have been excited to get a blessing, but I don't see the point. God already knows I'm sick, I've already asked him to help me heal, so why do I have to let two people who only care about me because they've been assigned to care touch my head and pour vegetable oil on the back of my head??? It's ridiculous... because I either believe the church, or I don't. And judging from the fact the I've not been to a mormon church since Sept. 2008, almost half a year ago, I'd say I'm pretty fully apostate.

Sometimes, destructive, abusive familiarity feels safer and more comfortable than the frightening cold unknown.

And I'm definitely in that territory now.

I basically told my hometeachers flat out that I only let them teach me because I know that they need to mark me off as "visited" in their report, and I'd hate to be responsible for keeping them from getting 100 percent of their work done.

It was a very uncomfortable meeting. I felt like flying off the handle at them the whole time spewing hateful venom at them, renouncing my faith and telling them to get the fuck off my couch, get the fuck out of my apartment, and never come back. But you can't get angry and two men who really believe that they love you, and speak softly and blah blah blah... what the hell are you supposed to do? It's just like in that episode of South Park "All About Mormons". Stan says:

Oh, stop it! That's another thing! Why do you have to be so freakin' nice all the time?! It isn't normal! You just weasel people into your way of thinking by acting like the happiest family in the world and being so nice to everyone that you just blindside dumb people like my Dad!

I laughed when I watched it. Now I cringe because I feel like it's true. I wanted to just flat out say, "I'm gay, I'm actively seeking a boyfriend, and I don't fit in your church anymore, so if you still want to visit me, then fine, but until I can be who I am within the walls of the church, then you can stop wasting both yours and my valuable time on this bullshit"

But of course, I didn't. I just said, simply, quietly: "I don't know what to tell you". I didn't engage. They got the hint, and they left, though not before one of them (the one I like less) tried one last time to passionately share that he does care about me.

Not the real me, not about my happiness, but for the me that I'm obviously "losing" the good Mormon me.

As if that even ever existed.

I turned down their offer for a blessing. No real point in getting on if I don't have the faith anymore. And when they left, I lay on my couch in a sickness induced stupor, and I started crying. I miss that fucking church so much sometimes. I miss that warm feeling of KNOWLEDGE. Of knowing, with absolute certainty the answers to all life's little problems and questions. I miss the hymns on sunday and my mormon friends that I grew up with, who are all getting married and starting their perfect mormon lives.

And here I am, sick, alone and crying. No one to make me soup. No one who will sit with me and watch a movie, snuggling up, not worried about getting sick from my contact.

I lay on the bed, and for the second time in a year started visualizing the bulk-sized bottle of Advil-Liquigels in the medicine cabinet, and how I could just walk over to that bottle, pour those fucking pills into my massive fucking gut and let that medicine, that pain relief action pump through every artery, vessel, and ventricle until all the pain of life was gone--until life was gone.

I'd probably get away with it too. My roommate if very respectful, and he wouldn't check up on me if my door was closed for probably a day or so. I'd be in the clear. I'm doomed to go to hell anyway, so why not cut through all the bullshit and just go now? What's a few more years of living worth when you have an eternity in hell to look forward to. It's not really worth bothering.

EMO-LICIOUS enough yet? Good, glad to hear it. I'm never going to find a guy because I'm too fucked up, broken, confused, fat, undesirable and angry to ever woo someone. Not to mention I'm picky and shallow, and I want someone who's good looking, but apparently I expect that person to see beyond looks since I'm fucking fat ass who while he's been sick has been binging up a storm and essentially putting on 5 pounds in a weekend. It's just what I deserve. I'm getting it all back, my feelings of being worthless and a waste of space and life are validated again and again, with every lonely night and every sad song and every cute guy I see who I'll never get the chance to talk to. Every couple and every baby, the knowledge that YOU'LL NEVER HAVE THAT. Fuck this life.

In the previous post, I took two doses (60ml) of NyQuil, which is two of those little dose cups full. Chedner had asked if it was 2 cups, as in 16oz? Well, sometimes I wish I had that courage--then I'd really be fine. My roommate had to work today. He wouldn't find me for almost 8 hours. Plenty of time.

Don't worry, I won't do it. I'm too much of a god-damn coward to take my own life. Too scared of the pain, and to considerate of the negative effect it would have on the people that rely on me. My job, my dear, sweet siblings who I don't deserve. My idiot, child-like parents who I can never talk to because they don't know how to listen. My loving, sweet grandmother who's always had more faith in me and more love for me than I've had for myself, who supported me and gave me money for college. All that would be wasted if I killed myself.

It's for those reasons I can't do it. But dammit, I wish I could. I'm done with trying to figure this shit out. It's too hard, and I don't care anymore. I want to have my biggest problem be that my TiVo can't record all the shows I want it to. I want to be a blindly faithful member of a church that fits me like a glove, who can't see the fact that maybe people aren't all supposed to be the same and need different faiths and denominations to achieve that same end-goal of being a good person who does unto others what he would have done unto him.

I'm getting tired now. I took more NyQuil. The benifit of growing up using homeopathic and herbal remedies is that when you really want the wallop, modern medicine seems incredibly powerful and wonderful.

Goodnight. It's nap time. I'm sorry you had to read this, but then again, I warned you that you should stop before starting, because all it is is a sad tired little boy who is crying out for help, for the pain to stop. He can't take it anymore... but every day it's just trying to get to the end.

If I didn't just take...

I just took 2 cups of NyQuil.

More in the morning.

BLARGH

I'm sick, I'm lonely, and I'm confused.

Which in turn makes me binge and depressed. I need to do laundry.

Fuck this.

Your Lying Eyes

You can't hide your lying eyes! (And your smile is a thin disguise!)

Seriously, though. While at work today in LA, it rained, HARD. After the weather broke, I looked out the window and saw a beautiful white sky--like I'd never seen before.

The problem is, my eyes lie. I see the sky as pure white because it was so bright compared to my dark, warm 2800K office (2800K refers to color tempurature, for those wondering), my eyes saw that beautiful brightness as white. It was heavenly.

But when I got our office's Nikon D50 out to take a shot or two, this is what came off the camera:

Beautiful, yes, but not what I'd seen.   I utilized photoshop and attempted to correct the .NEF (raw data) from the image to try and replicate for you, the home viewer, what I'd seen.

This is still too platinum--it was softer, more inviting, a white as if the heavenly host was about to appear.

*sigh* Sometimes there's so much beauty in the world I feel like I can't take it, like my heart's going to cave in.

Have a great weekend everyone.

What's Missing? - Performing Arts and Passion

Last night I attended the Mortified Doomed Valentine's Day Show in Los Angeles.  I was able to attend free, as a guest of the producers.  For those of you who don't know, I'm going to be performing in their March 11th show!

I attended the show with a friend from college, and I tell you, I never laughed harder.  The stories that people told, "ripped from the pages of real life", were so amazing.  I am not going to try and re-create the experience for you, because it is impossible.  Seeing these fully grown men and women, reading their journals and showing their drawings from their 15 year old counterparts, was indescribably delightful.  How absurd we are as we grow up!

After the show I was emotionally pumped in a way I hadn't been in a while.  I am so eager to perform at that show in March--I'm already getting that healthy stage fright--that anxious high that all actors feel in the pit of their stomach right before they step out into the spotlight.

That night, I dreamed.

In the dream, I was back in my High School auditorium at Harrisonburg High School.  My drama teacher, Mr. Swartz was there, but he wasn't directing this show--I was.  I had a script in my hand, and I was trying to direct the actors on stage.  The rest of the cast, who's scenes weren't being actively rehearsed, sat in the audience, doing homework and talking (as we were wont to do back when I did theater in high school).

I set down my script to give a direction, and when I turned back to pick it up again, the script had gone.  I began to search for it, and the kids in the audience kept talking, and my rehearsal began to break down.  Louder talking and laughing, and my script was nowhere to be found.

Anger building, I exploded.  "You all need to either sit quietly or step out into the foyer if you're going to talk!  And who stole my script?"

I don't remember much after that, but I remember I was pretty unsuccessful at regaining control of the situation.

But what does it mean?  Maybe I feel like I used to have a script--the church and is proscriptions for life--and now I don't, and I'm losing my control over the direction of my life.

Or maybe it's just random recall from being excited about performing again.  I love theater probably as much if not more than film and television.  I love rehearsals, opening night, and the magical experience of suddenly realizing that you are the character, and of course, the most gratifying sound in the world--the applause.

Film makers and web-series creators don't get to see the smiles they put on their audiences faces.  They don't get the thrill that ever night something could go wrong or brilliantly right, earning them that standing ovation.

I started watching Hello, Dolly! this week (haven't had time to finish it), partly because of the song "Put on Your Sunday Clothes" that was featured in the opening sequence of WALL-E.  Not only is this show a terrific example of a big budget musical extravaganza, like Seven Brides for Seven Brothers or The Unsinkable Molly Brown, it feels good.  Just watch and listen:

"There's no blue Mondays in your Sunday Clothes!"

I've been having blue days a lot lately, and maybe it's because I don't wear my Sunday clothes anymore.  I have nothing to get excited about or dressed up for.  

I'm have no passion.

Theater is something I'm passionate about, but I don't get to express it enough.  I'm passionate about finding a boyfriend, but I'm so far unsuccessful. 

If I could perform for a living, I would in a heart beat.  The problem is, I'm too scared, too comfortable, too fat, have no technical training and frankly don't have enough tenacity to even attempt it.  So instead I seek out little opportunities to be on stage in every day life.  Reading to children at a local elementary school(doing that this weekend), or reading my journals to 300 people in a Mortified Show, maybe running for public office?

Lately I just feel like I'm on that treadmill again--running and running and getting nowhere.  Just relax, Ezra.  You've got a lot of time to figure this stuff out.  Don't get your panties in a bunch just yet.  It's never too late to start over.

Sunday Traffic Spikes

I was going to have a post ready for today, since I've noticed that site visits almost double on Sundays.  Probably because being at church forces the subjects we blog about to the front of our collective minds.  I thought I could take advantage of that to get maximum exposure for a really great post.

But I didn't.

Dr. Hypocrisy OR How I Learned To Quit Feeling Bad About Ignoring Someone

It's a long title for a relatively simple post.

Basically, it used to bother me when people would ignore my messages on OKcupid.  It would bring me down, making me think "God, am I really that ugly/fat/uninteresting that I can't even talk to you and be your friend"?

But today, someone actually messaged me first, and I have zero physical attraction to this person.  They aren't ugly, they seem like they might be nice, but all the same, I'm just not interested in giving up any of my valuable time to someone I don't even have an inkling of desire for in the first place.  And while in theory I want new friends, the reality is I barely get to see the friends I already have... and who wants a friend who secretly wants to be your lover anyway?  It's just awkward.

Granted, this makes me realize that is the same thought process went through the minds of the hundreds (maybe not hundreds, but dozens) of guys who I've messaged that ignore me, and that kind of hurts, but why?

I don't want someone's pity or charity.  I want them to truly be interested in me for who I am.

From now on, I choose to be glad when I'm ignored.  Because if someone politely but vaguely responds, my lonely self automatically goes into hyper-boyfriend-seek-and-destroy mode and I start imagining things that just aren't there, and it always ends up in disappointment.

So I am glad this person messaged me, and I wish I could tell them why without sounding like a dick.  But it's true--he has helped me to be more accepting of rejection.

Weird how things go like that, huh?

Sad Strangers

Yesterday I was driving home from the gym, talking on my (wired!) headset to my sister in Maine.  We try to talk at least once a week.  When I was about 2/3rds of the way home, I received a text message from Andrew, a college friend who I'd committed to pick up at the airport.

Blast! I felt silly having been heading in the wrong direction for that whole time.

(I'm not going to turn this post into a commentary on that last sentence and the deeper truth that lies within it, though it's very tempting. I think my readers are smart enough to feel where I might go with that)

So I swung all the way around--north, then west on the 101, then south on the 405 to Century Blvd.  Andrew is gay, and now that I am more comfortable and "out", I get special delight in re-visiting my old gay friends.  I used to be somewhat uncomfortable around my gay friends, because I feared that they, being gay, had some special sixth sense, and would quickly figure out my dark secret.  I feared I'd be outted by them--not directly, perhaps--but maybe people would notice the similarities between me and my gay friends and come to a (correct) conclusion that I, too, was homosexual.

Well, all that crap is in the past now.  When I got to the airport, Andrew and I embraced in a way that seems exclusive to homosexuals and close family--that great big unrestrained bear hug of joy at seeing someone you care about after a long absence.

Mind you, I've no interest in a relationship with Andrew, but I love hugs and I do care about my friends very deeply.

We drove towards where he was staying in Sherman Oaks, and we stopped and got In-N-Out for dinner.  (I limit myself to no more than once a week, because I literally get giddy when I eat In-N-Out, it's just that good.  It makes up for the lack of decent pizza out here).

While we were talking, I noticed a guy sitting alone on a stool at the bench.  He looked to be in his low to mid 20's (I'm a terrible estimator of age) and slender with a jacket and a cap, five-o-clock shadow, and moist, sad eyes.

I couldn't help but watch him.  He looked as if he was really upset, yet didn't want to show the world his pain.  My heart reached out to this guy, and I really really wanted to go over and ask him what was wrong.  We made eye contact one or two times, but I didn't get a read on him.  I hesitated, minutes slipping by, trying to talk myself into going over and asking "is everything ok?"

But the moment slipped away.  He muttered something to him self, got up, dumped his trash and left.

Earlier this week I'd been reading articles about picking up a guy, and I'd committed myself to at least try striking up a conversation with someone I find attractive.  Why didn't I do it?  A wasted opportunity.  I feared that maybe he just wanted to be left alone--there was a reason he wasn't letting his tears flow--and maybe if I approached him, he'd be angry with me for not minding my own business.   But maybe he would have been grateful that in cold, uncaring, "blade-runner city" LA, someone at least tried to reach out.

But I still feel cheap, because my motivation wasn't 100% altruistic.  I thought he was cute and wanted to talk to him.  Eh, what are you going to do.

We're all sad strangers, walking the streets alone at night, staring up at the stars.  Wondering if somewhere out there your other half is looking at those same celestial bodies, questioning if he'll ever find his.

*sigh*

Silly and Pointless

Sometimes I get very confused and wonder why.

Why did I attend an Episcopal Church service with Alan on Sunday and cry my eyes out?

Why do I continue to allow my home teachers to see me even though I already know I can't go back to the church?

Why do I spend time at work writing blog posts and flirting with boys that are thousands of miles away?

Why am I so hard on myself?  I've lost 20 pounds in the last year, and yet I'm constantly depressed at how fat I am.

I'm going to get fired one of these days.