Alice in Wonderland

"Well, after this, I should think nothing of falling down stairs." -- Alice 

Did you ever wake up one morning and realize that everything was changing all at once and without adequate warning or provocation? This is happening to me right now. Suddenly, I am Alice, falling down the rabbit hole, destination unknown. I find myself in this midway point where nothing makes any sense. There is no gravity, so I can't find a place to cetner, ground or focus myself. The walls are blurred and vague so I can't even get a bearing to find out which direction I'm going, for all I know, I'm going to land any day now and find that I've turned up in some mysterious land where up is down and in is under. If I'm lucky, maybe I'll end up with a smart-assed cat as a tour-guide. He'll speak in riddles and the people I meet will be essential to my ongoing development, and eventual acceptance of my fate.

Love, Actually

"You would've broken my heart if you'd said yes." -- Juliet 

This is, I think, the last in my series regarding The Things I Have Learned From The Boys I Have Kissed. I've been considering posting this for the past month or so as I have evaluated my short-lived relationship with Jacob Buss. I am going to lose friendships with five or six people because of this post, and that is the primary reason I have tried so hard to not post a continuation of this series. As always, there is a story here but it is relatively short, compared to the previous stories I have told regarding the boys I have kissed.

Juno

"No, It's Morgan Freeman, do you have any bones that need collected?" -- Juno

This quote has nothing to do with this blog post. It just happens to be my favorite quote from the movie. A more appropriate quote would be, "It makes his junk smell like pie." Not for the obvious reasons, because I'm subtle and do what I can to make people think about the things I say. In case you didn't know, this blog post is about how I experience attraction in threes. In fact, I experience a lot of things in threes, specifically any interpersonal relationships I've had have occurred, or developed, in threes. I privately call it my 'echo'. You see, when I was very young, I had three very close friends, and as such, I have continued this trend and have always had three very close friends at any given time. Three people that have always mattered the most to me. On top of that, my adventures in dating and attraction have always happened in threes as well. I don't know what happened to cause this, but every time I meet a great guy, I meet two more great people at the same time. Eventually, that dwindles down to one, but it never happens gradually. Suddenly, two of them will do something that drops them out of the running.

Many topics, one post

So super blog post made me think super date which made this necessary. 

I have a reasonable number of small things to blog about, so I thought I would combine them into one, not necessarily super, but multi-topic post.

1. New Year's Resolutions

My resolutions are pretty simple. Quit smoking and quit drinking soda. So at 11:59 on December 31st I had a cigarette in one hand and a Bacardi and Coke in the other. Both of those were cast aside once the countdown was done. I've done pretty well. I broke on both yesterday, but fuck the lot of you if you think that's not doing well. I've decided quitting soda altogether is probably a little stupid, as when I had some yesterday it turned my entire shift around due to the energy it provided, so I'm thinking it'll be an emergency pick-me-up thing. Cigarettes are... whatever. I'm not smoking anymore. I'll slip up, because I will, but yeah.

The Craft

"We are the weirdos, mister." -- Nancy

This is a continuation of my ongoing series about The Things I Have Learned From The Boys I Have Kissed. It is a jump sideways. You'll note I'm not going chronologically. This is purposeful, intentional and direct. I have ranked these kisses in order from most-important to least-important. Not that any kiss is less important than any other, Oh who am I kidding? Some kisses just matter more. This posting isn't about one kiss in particular, in fact it is about several kisses by several men in one night. Specifically, the Vernal Equinox of 2006. March 20th to give a precise date. 

There are those who have known me since 2007 that have never heard this tale. Likewise, there are those who have known me only a very short time that do know this tale. It is one that I have closely guarded for various reasons. It speaks of unwed sex, and liberal kisses. What the few who know this story don't know is that it is the first instance in Arizona in which I was truly happy and comfortable with myself, my body and my sexuality. 

It starts with a party. I had a lot of these when I lived in Arizona. my fellows Arconauts and I enjoyed our soirees. They offered a bit of a break from the daily mundanity that comes from living at the arcology. Paolo Soleri and Mary Hoadley would have you think us studious little architects building a better tomorrow, when really we were college students, pot heads, alcoholics, rapists, and the worst scum of the universe. Ok, maybe we weren't that bad, but we got close from time to time. You'd be amazed at what happens when a group of ecologically-minded twenty-somethings start to consume alcohol and dance in an enclosed space. 

On this particular night, I was given the task of manning the bar. Trading kisses for shots of tequila and brief makeout sessions for mixed drinks, I took advantage of the situation and exerted power over the boys I most lusted for. The most important people this night were Franklin and Sun. Franklin was a boy with a girlfriend. Specifically, a girlfriend that I worked with on a daily basis and who loathed it when I would spend time with her significant other. I had always sensed the existing option that the two of them had troubles in the past with his wandering lips, and hands. I definitely took advantage of this fact through the evening. 

Sun was a boy visiting from Prescott. I would later go on to have an adventure with him that was far more personal and private when I moved to Phoenix later in the year. Tonight though was our first meeting, and was filled with public sex, and bisexual adventures. Eventually he and I would venture toward adventures that would lead to my favorite blanket, my least favorite trip to Burning Man and my most exciting weekend ever. 

Franklin was a sweet little desert thing, a creature of fantasy and music. He created sounds that made my heart pulsate with joy, and moved my feet to dancing. He was electric and delicious, with little cracks in his skin that begged exploration. His eyes were the best part though. There was something inside of them that entranced me and on his first night into the Arcology, he traded a kiss for a few shots, which is what gave me the idea for this particular evening to take advantage of the boys I most longed for. 

He managed to teach me that sometimes, all it takes is for us to let our guards down. I've found, since him, that letting myself be vulnerable has led me to some of the most rewarding opportunities in my life, both romantically and otherwise. Regardless of such, I still have these situations where I try to avoid vulnerability in an effort to remain in control of situations. This has led to a number of unfortunate episodes. (see also: Momma's little breakdown)

The boy called Sun was made of magic. He was fashioned from whispers and tied together with rainbow-strings. His skin tasted like salt and strawberries. His lips had the distinct texture of cream, and touching him felt like bathing in warm silk. He taught me that no matter how you look, how you feel, who you are, or where you're from, somewhere there is a person who can and will sense a connection with you and eventually, somehow, the two of you will meet. 

These two boys, and this night, taught me to be happy in my own skin. It's no secret that I'm not the thinnest. I'm not the most attractive. I'm not the most debonair, or intelligent. I'm not the perfect guy by any stretch of the imagination, but I'm beautiful, and whole, and complete. I'm me and I'm happy to be such. They also taught me to be comfortable with my sexuality and be open with it, until that point, I had guarded it in Arizona as if it were a disease or a monster that i kept inside of me. 

Someday, I'll recount my adventures with Sun, my trip to the reservation and other stories of my time in Northern Arizona. For now though, I'll leave you here, and hope that you find a little bit of guidance or knowledge in tales of my life and the boys I have kissed.

Romeo + Juliet

"And palm to palm is holy palmers' kiss."

This continues my ongoing series on The Things I Have Learned From The Boys I Have Kissed. This particular installment is in recognition of a young man I lived with in Arizona, specifically Arcosanti. For those who don't know, Arcosanti is an experimental Arcology and failed attempt at ecological design paradigms. I moved to Phoenix in 2003, almost immediately after graduation, and then moved to Arcosanti in October.Over my three years at Arcosanti, I met a lot of people, with a constant influx of new population every five weeks, it was easy to meet new guys and have single-serving sexual partners that would disappear and never return. Until I met Murray.

Murray was pretty much made of magic. Not beautiful in the classical or traditional sense of the word, he set my soule on fire. He managed to fill me up with new thoughts and ideas. He challenged my pre-existing ideals and gave me somebody to confide in and fall in love with. Boy did I fall too. I crashed and burned. We shared some of the closest moments I've ever shared with another person. We would spend hours atop the ceramics apse, Crafts III building, and Vaults enjoying our lives and sharing whispers with each other.

During the day we would have passing conversations in the Office, and share meals in the Cafe. he would tail my tours, and I would give him pointers on his. At night, we would spend hours conversing via AIM and trade commentaries on livejournal and beyond. From time to time, we would bury ourselves in our friend Denman and spend the evening watching anime in her room while cracking wise, and making light of the universe as a whole, all the while respecting it.

Once, we committed acts of art and war at McDonald's all the while being pet by Denman, and egged on by others. We ate Swedish Fish, and drove a solar-powered golf-cart in the middle of the night. Sharing poetry in the Vaults, and at the mouths of caves in the middle of the desert, we practiced speaking our mind and not being a bitch.

He taught me something that no other boy had taught me before though. During all of our adventures, we never once kissed each other on the lips. In fact, we did little more than touch hands, and always in secret. We would sit together and interlink fingers, passing energy back and forth and sharing the heat we each produced. We would curl up in couches and fall asleep to the sounds of the desert. All in all, he showed me that love can be had without physical signs of such.

He taught me that sometimes, love takes the form of running a half-mile down the hill to camp at sunset, racing the moon to make sure that the boy you love more than life itself is calm, cool, collected and comfortable. We shared a closeness that I have found to echo in my continued friendships since my departure back to Omaha. Sometimes a kiss is overrated.

Twilight: My (not so secret anymore) shame

So... I watched Eclipse last night, thanks to Josh getting me a DVD rip of it a little bit early. I definitely got a kick out of it, but I think you need some background on me and Twilight.

I started out confused. I think the first time I heard of it was seeing a group on Facebook called something like "I can never find real love because I read Twilight" or some lame crap like that. I made a note in my brain that such a thing existed and moved on.

Then came the hate portion. I figured out what it was, got some minor details filled in, and swore to never read the books. Ever. Because they (really are) terrible.

Then I saw the first movie with a friend who loves the series and one who hates it. I had sort of moved into the "this could be funny" camp at this point, and figured it would it least be worth it for the reactions of the hate-y friend.

I like to know things, so I needed further information about the series following the (admittedly hilarious, awful, and mustache-tastic) movie. So I turned to Cleolinda over at LJ. Which just got me in deeper. Reading about the series from the perspective of someone who neither loves it blindly or hates it completely really turned me around on it. She compares it to a twinkie a lot, if I recall correctly, because it is light and fluffy, but oddly satisfying. I think it was Growing Up Cullen that finally pushed me over the edge though. I really recommend reading that whether or not you're into the series. It really changed the way I read the books.

Which, yes, I did do. My sister gave me the first one for my birthday and I ate it up. I got the other three and had them all read within a ... month? Maybe. I would get into the proper mindset, which is to say I would smoke copious amounts of weed, and settle in to read. I don't think any other books have ever made me laugh so hard.

That's not to say I don't get some straight, having lady parts enjoyment from the series. I can't get behind the message (you need a boyfriend to be a real person, stalkers are okay, etc.) but I don't want to talk about that. You can find that all over the internet. We all know the series is shit.

But anyway! Now that you've gotten my life story, on to the movie.

The first thing that made me grab a notebook and pen was that every time the Cullens are on screen together (save while at school. You know. That one time.) they talk about the Volturi, the newborn army, blah blah blah. But they don't sleep. You can't talk about the same thing all the time. Do they do anything else? This is why I consider Growing Up Cullen canon, because it delves into how they fill their free time.

The next thing I noticed was that the movies are completely different from the books, because they lack constant Bella derived narration. If it was possible to watch the movies without knowing what the point of the series is (Bella/Edward 4eva you guys), you could get the idea that it is a tale of a young girl who got mixed up in a serious, dangerously co-dependent relationship, but will make the right call in the end. This is really apparent when she goes to visit her mom. Watch that scene forgetting what you know, and it'll seem like Bella will dump Edward at the end of the movie, go to college in Florida and live a full happy life. This take away some of the hilarity, because while the books continue to remind you that Bella is a total moron who doesn't deserve to live, the movies almost make her seem like a real person. (Okay when I say movies I mean Eclipse. New Moon's Bella who is only capable of screaming and moping for MONTHS on end is nowhere near a real person.)

On to a legitimate improvement from the book: "I kissed Bella. And she broke her hand. Punching my face." is what Jacob tells Charlie after exactly what he said happened happened. In the book it's "[Bella] thinks she broke her hand" ... "How did she do that?" ... "She hit me." ... "Why did she hit you?" ... "Because I kissed her." ... "Good for you, kid." Which... I'm sorry? You're daughter just got roughly the equivalent of raped in this abstinence only universe, was so offended she punched him, and broke (okay sprained) her hand and you congratulate the guy who did it? Uncool Sheriff Mustache. Uncool. The movies version both skips out on the congratulatory Charlie bit and allows Taylor Lautner to really utilize his wooden delivery style for maximum laughs.

But the funniest moment in the movie has to got to go to Rosalie. She apparently burst in to murder her fiance who gang raped her and left her for dead in a wedding dress, saying "I was a little theatrical back then." This has to be intentionally hilarious though, right? Who knows. I wish I could get a screenshot, but I fail at making them and can't seem to find one on the internet, but it's solid gold, let me tell you.

I have a few more notes, but meh! I've talked enough about Twilight for a lifetime already. I guess I should mention that I don't get why Bella doesn't put on a coat while walking around outside on top of the mountain that she nearly froze to death on the night before, but who can expect logic?

Toodles.

Twilight : Eclipse

"If I'd known, I would have dressed better."

This is part two of the multi-part series regarding The Things I Have Learned From The Boys I Have Kissed. This is about Sean. He's actually the first boy I ever kissed. Years ago, I spent the summer, or a rather lengthy portion thereof, in St. Louis at my father's apartment. I think it was because he bribed my mom, or because she got sick of me sitting around the apartment. Realistically, she just wanted more time with her DOTM without the kidlings around. Why I was there doesn't matter. What matters is that I went and that while I was down there, I met Sean.

I couldn't have been 12 years old. In fact, I was probably in 5th or 6th grade at the very most. I know we had to lie about my age to the owners of the apartment complex so that I could have a key to the pool. That is where I met Sean. He was a couple of years older than me, I remember that much, auburn hair, and skin paler than mine. I wasn't such a fatty back then and actually enjoyed spending time at the pool, playing games of splashysplash and wrestling with the other boys poolside. It was the summer of love as far as my life is concerned, and it was an adventure through-and-through.

Sean and I became quick friends, everybody else in the complex was either several years older or younger than us. He had a pet turtle, and the two of us were infinitely well-tuned to each other. We would spend the mornings playing games at the pool, or throwing the baseball back and forth. In the afternoons, we'd figure out the four-digit parental lock on our parents' cable boxes so that we could watch porn. We usually broke my dad's first. He wasn't so intelligent when it comes down to it. A lot of the time, it was quick and effortless for me to figure it out.

It was late one afternoon, we'd spent the day at the pool, and were eating apples with his pet turtle under a tree. He asked me if I'd ever kissed anybody, and sheepishly, I told him no. We theorized on how our first kisses would go, who they'd be with, how they'd feel. It was a nice bonding moment between the two of us and it would be days, almost two weeks before I asked to kiss him. We spent the next several weeks touching, playing and kissing. It was a heavenly distraction from my father's idiocy. None of these people were the wiser by any stretch of the imagination. Looking back on these days, I knew then that I was gay.

i never saw Sean again. I came back to Omaha, and my life continued on with the knowledge in the back of my mind that I was gay and that I had kissed a boy. Who knows if Sean ended up the same. I'd like to think that our friendship was as formative for him as it was for me, but realistically, I'll never know.

Edge of Seventeen

"It hurts"

 This is the first of a series of posts I intend to make. The series theme? Things I Have Learned from Boys I Have Kissed. Please note the distinction that I have made here, a kiss does not imply dating, and specifically, I mention boys, as the bulk of these will have taken place prior to my triumphant return to Omaha in 2008. I started thinking of this about a week ago while I was sorting DVDs, the movie, Edge of Seventeen showed up and it intrigued me, because the only people who watch films like this are gay kids who are sick and tired of John Hughes being such a douche bag. Well, and creepy straight girls who spend their lives attached to gay men an can't find any real passion in their own lives. 

I'll admit that being the only out guy in high school meant that I got a lot of play from young men who would later become the proud homosexuals of Omaha North High School. It got me a lot more play from boys who would never come out ever in their entire life, and to this day will probably deny that they ever did anything with a man. I've been the tester for numerous guys and I think I'm kind of satisfied with that. Each experience taught me a lot about who I am, what I like, and what my limits, standards and expectations are. Aside from being an introductory post, this is also about one of the first boys I kissed. I'm pretty sure he falls into the second category of toe-dipper, but I'll freely admit, he had the biggest impact on my development as a man. 

His name was Zach. He wasn't the first boy I kissed, not by a longshot. He was actually somewhere in the middle. It was my senior year of high school, and I couldn't tell you what grade he was in if I tried. I do know that we only started talking via email at school. He was dating an obnoxious little mousey girl with an attitude. I asked him to homecoming. When he said he had a date already, I was disappointed, but we kept talking, and actually became pretty good friends. It wasn't until a few weeks later, via phone-call that he asked me to be his boyfriend. It was cute. This was important because up until this moment, I had always been the aggressor in any sort of interaction with men. He was a pretty fantastic guy, one of the few that I continued to talk to after departing Nebraska for Arizona. He loves ducks. He's a whole lotta punk-rock. He bites when he kisses, which has stuck with me ever since. He came to my school play on opening night and brought me a carnation, something nobody has ever done since. He would walk me from class to class and we'd sneak a kiss before disappearing into our classrooms. He wore black lipstick that left cute little marks that I wore with pride. 

I haven't spoken to him directly since 2005. We're friends on facebook, but I never know what to say to him to let him know just how formative he was in my youth. I won't go so far as to say I love him, but I definitely enjoyed him and adore the parts of him I find in others I meet on a daily basis. There is rarely a day that passes that I don't meet somebody who reminds me of him in some way, shape or form.