He gave up social media and alcohol for Lent. What he did next blew my mind.

No, it actually won't blow your mind. And if you're the type of person who read this solely for the ridiculous cliffhanger title, I hate you on principle. I did give up social media and alcohol for 40 days, but I doubt my insights will blow anyone's mind. I'm also not going to list said insights for you (i.e. The 7 Things I Learned from Letting Go of Facebook). Quit being an asshole and expecting people to tell you how many paragraphs you have to read. Ok, not giving any frame of reference considering the global 10-second attention span is rude. This should take you about five minutes to read. Happy?

I love Lent. Seriously. I give something up every year. Lent is an awesome exercise in self evaluation and control. What do I not need in my life, that I feel like I need? Diet coke, meat, scary movies, smoking, cheese, fried food, fast food, and even running have been on the chopping block. This past year I came to terms with my identity as a social media whore and wine-o. Are some people bigger social media whores than me? Do I drink about as much as an average person drinks? Probably, but it's these justifying questions that made me choose them for Lent.

Alcohol is super gross. It must be masked with so many juices to be a pleasurable experience for me. Even wine I drink purely for the feelings, and I choose that because it tastes slightly less like hairspray. Same with whiskey. I also like wheat beer, but that's more an emotional connection to Germany.

Also, being drunk is awesome, but hangovers are very much not. When I first started drinking, hangovers did not exist. I drank whatever I wanted and was fine. Then gin happened. To drink so much acrid tasting fluid to feel awesome for a brief time and then horrible for an entire weekend, is idiocy on my part. I kept asking people if I should go to the emergency room, convinced I felt the death struggle upon me.

Alcohol was much easier to give up than social media. For the above mentioned reasons, after a couple days without it, I wondered why I'd been drinking so much. I have more energy, feel like I'm doing better at work, and I'm saving money. There are people I like to go out and drink with, but there are many who don't drink that I have fun with. I don't want to be a person that needs a drink to enjoy myself.

Social media is super awesome. It helps me stay in touch with people all over the world that I really care about. Sure I could take the time to write a letter, or even better, visit. But it's nice keeping them in my day-to-day life too. I get to keep up with my friend Ben in England, and chat with him about vacationing in Europe. It's awesome seeing my friends in Vermont, enjoying the snow with their kids or significant others. I love hard and hate when someone goes beyond out of sight, to out of mind.

Social media is also quite annoying. Cliffhanger titles: "You won't believe what happened next." Bitch, yes I will. They made a fucking snowman out of sock. THAT'S the shocking twist? Lists: "The 27 Things Only Return Missionaries with Lisps will Understand." Just go to hell already with the lists. Everyday selfies: If you're making a progression video for your funeral montage, keep the everyday details to yourself. Let us see the finished product all at once.

Everyone has their annoyances on Facebook or Instagram, I won't keep going on about mine.

Wait, one more. People saying idiotic things. This gem about the Five Dissenting Votes in LDS General Conference prompted a slew of crap. A few friends posted similar sentiments to: "I think people have a right to oppose things, I just think there is a time and place to do it-and the time and place to do it is not in general assembly." Why do they even ask if there are any opposed, if no one should say anything?! You can't actually be that stupid. "It was very sad to me to see that evil is coming in and people are doubting, losing their faith." Just because they doubt the leadership, does not mean they doubt their faith. The two are not mutually exclusive, dickhead. And it doesn't make someone evil to question their church. That's how and why Joseph Smith founded Mormonism.

Rant over. Three deep breathes. Despite all that annoying stuff, social media was probably the hardest thing I've given up, and I want to know what that means. It's good to want to stay in touch, a little scary feeling out of touch without it. How do I find the balance between connected and social media whore?

Consumption is my choice. If I'm getting tired with all the tripe people post, I can read more of my book or news. I'm the conscious consumer, I'm not being forced to consume as much as I did. True of other "social media fast" posts I've read, I text and called more people. I can stop being a dickhead, and check it without living by it.

I'm one of the producers; I feed the feed. Why do I post - is it to remember things or is it so I feel like I matter? I do love screening my timeline occasionally to remember parts of life, but I also like the likes. And the comments, and the shares. I post to social media so much because its part of how I convince myself I matter.

So what I learned about giving up social media is no different from all the previous Lent epiphanies. Alcohol isn't bad in and of itself. Having too much and being a douche bag are bad. Social media isn't bad in and of itself. Placing too much stock in it is bad. Life is still fun without alcohol, and life still exists outside social media. Maybe it took too many paragraphs to get here or the notion doesn't blow your mind, but reminding myself every Lent helps me be a little less of an asshole.

The Excommunication Address

On October 2, 2014 I was called to a disciplinary council where I was excommunicated. For years I thought it was the worst thing that could happen, and now that it has, I feel an overwhelming sense of relief. The council of 15 men did what they thought was right, given the circumstances and what they know. What follows is what I had to say: trying to do the right thing, considering my circumstances and knowing what I know. 

****************************************************

I have known this moment was coming for six years. Now it is here, I have only two questions. Why am I in this disciplinary council? And what is the intended outcome? I want to share my thoughts on the answers.  

Why am I in this disciplinary council? 
You tell me because I am breaking the law of chastity, not because I am gay. We agree that I am not keeping the law of chastity and, like a straight person guilty of the same offense, I am violating covenants made in the temple. Where we disagree is that I believe loving a man undeniably factors into why I am here today. 

If being gay had nothing to do with this, I could marry my boyfriend Henry and have sex without breaking covenants like straight couples are capable of doing, and this council would not be happening. You tell me the choice is celibacy or disciplinary action. You, as straight men, are not faced with the same ultimatum. The option to share your sexual desire within the bonds of chastity exists, and in parts of our history, hasn't even been limited to one partner.

Often church members compare my choice to the ultimatum rapists or pedophiles must face. If they give in to their appetite, they should be removed from church (and really society). Rapists and pedophiles do not share their sexual desire, they force it upon the unwilling or unknowing. All of you in this court had the opportunity to share your sexual desire with an able and willing partner who loved and supported you. I am not going to deny myself the same joy because you do not understand why I want that with someone who is male.

Gay couples can find the same joy you have. You asked that I read Second Nephi, looking for the nature of God and life's purpose. Chapter two pertains most to this meeting. Opposition in all things, but there is also beauty in between. It is not just joy and misery, good and bad, life and death, heaven and hell. If we believe in varying degrees of heaven and all are part of God's glory, then why expel things here on Earth that still have good? Christ taught that there is a perfect and an imperfect, but we are all connected because we are somewhere in the middle and therefore incapable of defining others' place on that spectrum. 

Just as exaltation is made possible for individuals despite our imperfect nature, so can families be exalted that do not meet the ideal. I may be imperfect as an individual, but God sees my love for people and life. I may live life with a man, but God knows my goal is a family. When my partner and I die, we will be two souls who move on to the next part of the journey. I make no apologies to you for whom I love and take with me. 

So I am here because I am breaking the law of chastity and because I do not agree with the Church's position regarding my sexuality, nor will I apologize for that. This brings us to the next question - what are you trying to achieve with disciplinary action?

What is the intended outcome? 
You tell me that disciplinary council is a mechanism to help me realize my departure from God's path. This meeting is intended to bring me closer to God. We disagree regarding my place along God's path. Where we agree is that disciplinary council has ultimately brought me closer to my maker. 

Here is what I know of God's path. God sends good souls to us when we are ready to learn more about the path. Eve was sent for us to learn wisdom exists in the mistakes. Life is pain and that often comes from disobedience, but the same pain allows us to recognize higher joy. Moses was sent to teach us that God's people respect life's joy by living true to a common code. Jesus taught us that the common code is less detailed, yet more difficult than we thought - love God and love our fellow beings. Buddha helped us learn to connect with each moment, both within ourselves and with those around us. Mother Theresa showed us that even if God is lost to us, we can find God in compassion for others. These are just a few examples of people who continually show us our path. 

Joseph Smith helped us learn our relationship with God must be a personal one. We should live according to God's personal revelation because every church on the planet could be wrong. The Mormon Church is not exempt because it was founded by the person who delivered the message. I do not have to be a person of color to know it was wrong denying them the priesthood until 1978. I do not have to be female to know it is wrong refusing women the choice to remarry in the temple, while males can marry as often as they please. You do not have to be gay to know it is wrong revoking membership of committed gay couples. God is no respecter of persons and does not isolate power, agency, or love to white males who are straight.

Just as I know you cannot accurately judge me for my imperfections, I know I cannot condemn the Church. I proudly continue my association with the Church, despite our flaws. I may not be an exemplary person; I make mistakes. I certainly do not know everything or have all the answers. However, God knows I try my to live worthy of life and the truth it shares. I do not feel so far from the path to warrant this meeting. 

Disciplinary council has brought me closer to God. No matter what you decide today, this moment has brought me closer to my maker. It has highlighted some imperfections I want to work on, although living my life with a man is not one of them. This council also brings me closer to the message Joseph Smith died teaching us. A Church is led by humans, and humans are always not God. Never be afraid of questioning Church because we think it means losing God. Often, that is the moment God comes into clearer view.

If you think my behavior is unbecoming, and I should no longer be counted among you, then deliver your discipline. Until you remove "Visitors Welcome" from that door, I will continue worshipping among you, bothering no one and seeking to understand God. From this moment, I will sit in sacrament a little nearer to my maker. I know my relationship with this human Church is a benefit but was never a necessity in finding God. 

Your judgment aside, I await the judgment of divine understanding, with grief for my abuses and gratitude for my time here. I say these things in the name of all good souls who lived and died teaching us more about our path to God. Amen.  

Rough times and loss lessons

I've been through rough times in my life, just like anyone has. My childhood on the dark farm, butchering animals or dealing with idiot hunters, wasn't by any means an easy one. With 10 siblings, middle child syndrome would have seemed like a picnic. Then my "awkward stage" lasted the better part of a decade. My adult life and coming out as a gay man in a Mormon world were equally uncomfortable, although puberty finally set in. Thank God.

I've dealt with loss, just like anyone has. Friendships have ended and I've felt the pain of exclusion from an entire social circle. In college, my dad almost died and was only saved because someone else wasn't as lucky, but was selfless enough to donate their liver. Friends have passed on from cancer and suicide. A year ago, I lost a relationship I truly believed would last my lifetime. You'll notice I equate loss with loved ones and not stuff. I can buy a new couch or house, loved ones... not so much.

My tendency is to analyze the deeper meaning in these situations. My brain is this way for a reason and it doesn't work for me to just "go with the flow."  I don't just go with the flow; I want to know why the flow is. More importantly, why I was placed in the flow to begin with and what I'm supposed to do once in it. Just keep being because that's all we can do is a bullshit answer to me. Something is to be learned and I want to know what that is so I can feel my time here was worth it. Also, I apologize if the word flow is conjuring images of periods. I couldn't think of another phrase. Sicko.

Right now is a rough time in my life, and I'm dealing with loss. Work stress, financial struggles, isolation from moving to a new place, and the gross world of dating are what make it rough. The loss I'm feeling, and the impetus of this blog, is my dog Geneva. I've said to myself these last few rough months, "I've always got my family I can call on, and Geneva to love when I get home." Losing her so suddenly, on top of all the rough stuff, is almost unbearable. She was a truly remarkable being and I'm lucky to have been her dad. She made me a better person and (hopefully one day) a better dad to my kids.

So what's to be learned from all the rough stuff I'm dealing with? In other rough times, the lesson has been to believe not all times are rough.  This may sound like going with the flow, but it takes more responsibility. Going with the flow implies a passive existence in the negative and positive. In the universe of possibilities, positive and negative outcomes are equally likely. Why not actively work towards the positive one? If one falls in a river, it's a good idea to call for help, reach for passing branches, etc. rather than laying there and seeing what happens (or worse, purposely giving in). Unless you're a jerk. Maybe you should lay there and see what happens.

Finally, what is to be learned from the loss? With all the other loss I've experienced thus far, the first lesson seems to be "love until it hurts, because it's going to hurt anyway." At one point, we are all going to have to miss each other. Whether it's distance or death, everyone is missed and others will miss us. That hurt is inevitable, loving in the mean time is the optional (and enjoyable) part.

But that answer applies to all loss and doesn't satisfy right now. I want to know why Geneva in particular had to go at this particular moment. What's the lesson in adding loss to rough times? Maybe her passing means I'm ready for another part of life to begin. My years with her were some of the most uncertain, scary, and sad. When I was terrified no one could accept me as a gay man, she was my constant. Now I know who I am and ready to start my family. Maybe the lesson is that moving past the rough times means saying goodbye and being grateful for what got you through it in the first place. Geneva was one of the greats, and I'm going to believe in the positive possibility that's the lesson she was here to teach.

A Few Reasons I Hate Deer Hunting

Mama took this

I recently worked for my dad at the butcher shop (aka the Dark Farm) during the opening of the deer hunt here in Utah. I always knew I hated the deer hunt as a child, but chalked it up to the child labor laws I was breaking. However, after four days of observation as a grown man, I realized five reasons I actually hate the deer hunt.

1. Many hunters are real true dumb. Me: "What name am I putting this deer under?" 

Customer: "I don't know." 

Me: "You don't know whose deer this is?" 

Customer: "Well a lot of us were there." 

Me: "......"

2. Size actually doesn't matter. 

Whether it has two points or 15 points, it's still a dead deer. Gathering with your fellow hunters to discuss the enormity of your horns is thinly-veiled discussion of your cocks. Not to mention, without fail, hunters who bring in deer with a "smaller rack" apologize for their misfortune. The God damn deer is dead and now you're going to apologize for its small horns? You suck as a world citizen.

3. The poor planning. 

Customer: "What's the processing time?"

Me: "About ten days to two weeks."

Customer: "Woah that's not going to work! I can't do it! I've got to be back in California in two days."

Me: "We can do a rush job. How many deer do you have?"

Customer: "Well we haven't shot one yet."

Me: "....."

4. The lack of actual skill.

Me: "You didn't gut the deer after you shot it?"

Customer: "I thought that was something you took care of."

Me (internally): "The fact you were allowed to roam in the woods with a loaded firearm astounds me."

5. Hunting to say you've hunted. 

Me: "Here's how we normally cut a deer (explanation). Does that sound ok or do you have something specific in mind?"

Customer: "Oh I'm not going to really eat it. You could throw it away if you want. I just want the cape (head and hide) Haha!" (No shit, they actually laughed.)

It's a living breathing creature for hell's sakes! Or it was. If you're going to hunt, at least participate in the intended purpose: food. If you need something to do on a weekend, or are looking for ways to solidify your manliness, take up street racing or whatever it is manly men do these days. Don't satisfy your insecurity or boredom by killing an animal you're not even going to eat.

So my hatred of this opening weekend goes much deeper than the unholy hours I worked as a kid. My grievances boil down to this one problem, the deer hunters who show no respect for the life they ended. I'm aware it's a deer and not a small child, but it's still something that died at your hands. If you're going to hunt: learn how, make the time, quit making it about your cock, and at least eat it. Although, I don't know why anyone would; wild game meat smells and tastes like sour milk. One of many reasons I myself don't hunt. 

The Spirituality Coin

I'm slowly trying to wean myself off Facebook and plan to stay off for a while; way too much time was wasted on it. Too many selfies, political posts, and cat memes. And yes I'm aware of the irony that I posted a link to this blog on Facebook - the key word in the last couple sentences was wean. I'll get back on, but I needed time to do something different. So Facebook has been replaced by more reading. Sadly, I haven't done much in the past few years. It makes me feel dirty admitting that. Reading (and the subsequent thinking it inspires) have been my passion since I was a little weirdo.

Most recently, I've been reading a series of poems by the Buddhist philosopher Tai Sheridan, Ph.D. They're called Buddha in Blue Jeans and I highly recommend them - especially since they're free on Amazon Prime. Buddhism speaks to me for several reasons. The Buddhist view of and relationship with death fascinate me. Primarily though, I love that Buddhism fits within any other belief system. You can be a Mormon Buddhist or Jewish Buddhist. Buddhism is a way of thinking that leaves the specifics up to the believer, but keeps one focused on the core elements of any belief system that actually matter. This concept got me thinking about the specifics versus the core of spirituality. 

I think we all know the douchebags in any religion are the ones that forget the core that binds us all, and get caught up in the specifics that separate us. Whether you're Mormon, Catholic, Jewish, Hindu, Muslim, or follow any other philosophy, you can still be an asshole. Or you can be a nice person in any of those faiths as well. The choice is up to the individual what they make of their spirituality or faith. Just as life and death are two sides of the same coin, I think spirituality has two sides - wisdom and self-righteousness. 

Douchebaggery arises when a person has landed self-righteous side up on the faith coin. Self-righteous people believe they have the answers that no one else has figured out yet. Self-righteous people aren't able to let others be happy another way. I think it's because they've convinced themselves the specifics will achieve absolution, but deep down they know it isn't true. I think they react by becoming afraid of things that stand outside their specifics, because it exposes the specifics for the absurdities they are. Human beings are inventive and there are endless ways to believe what ordinances/paperwork you need, who you should or should not love, what is a sin and what isn't, and which scriptures you should adhere to.

On the other side of the faith coin exists the wise. A wise person believes no one has all the answers but that the life-long pursuit of answers matters. A wise person is comfortable letting others find their own path, enjoy their own happiness, and make their own mistakes. I think it's because they understand that some of the specifics are confusing, but don't have to matter if we all live to the core of our spirituality. I think they know loving each other is most important and can discern which specifics only distract from that.  

I don't think I'm either and also think I'm both. Lord knows I'm guilty of being the occasional douche nozzle. Just like the life/death coin, we can't have wisdom without occasionally facing our own self-righteousness. We can only hope to recognize when we're lying self-righteous side up and have the courage to flip the coin. In the end, a wise person is one who accepts a level of uncertainty so they can focus on the human bond - and a self-righteous person invents their own certainty to separate themselves from humanity. 

Look at you, living and shit.

My friend Bethany is a seriously intentioned human being. She feels her feelings, really loves the people around her, and makes the world a better place. The past few months, while recovering from the relationship and it's end, she would send me funny or meaningful quotes found on pinterest. The picture to the left is my favorite. It's helped me immensely.

(Side note) The quotes I send to Bethany: "Never marry at all, Dorian. Men marry because they are tired; women, because they are curious: both are disappointed." - The Picture of Dorian Gray.

Secretly, I'm a little neurotic. Or maybe not so secretly. I love it about myself, but it can cause problems. My ex-fiancee (he asked that his name not be mentioned on the blog for fear of Google searching...) was a very happy-go-lucky person. I was too (for the most part) when we met. However, the (for the most part) in the previous sentence is what separated us. Was my ex so concerned about being happy-go-lucky all the time that he neglected some serious matters in our relationship? You bet. Did I in kind start overreacting when he did it about smaller things? Indubitably. I'm tired of thinking about what went wrong. Always examining the lessons I learned about myself, what I want in a partner, blah blah blah. It's been five months and I'm tired of having that in my head.

So I've been shifting focus. My relationship didn't work, so what? Now what? I genuinely thought I couldn't live without the ex by my side, but look at me, living and shit. So my "now what?" is just enjoying what is right now, and it is exponentially better than it was.

Jamie, me, and Anne at Bethany and Turley's wedding

• Reconnecting with family: my nephew Everett and I are finally able to bond. I see my brothers, sisters, parents, nieces and nephews on a weekly basis and I love it. I've spent more time with my side of the family than I have in four years.
• Reconnecting with old friends: I've had good times with Bethany and Anne (the best temporary roommates a gay divorcee could ask for) my BYU Nauvoo pals, Jilleena and Joellen (some of the closest friends Soleil and I have), and even friends from Maine. 
• Meeting new ones: I've met some unforgettable people here in the SLC. My roommate Jamie, co-workers, friends, and my boyfriend Aaron - all great, interesting, smart, funny individuals. On top of the friends I've made here, my time in San Francisco was much needed and I met some wonderful people. 

My Aussie friend Sharlene and I in Germany

Because this is me we're talking about, I've given myself a timeline of purely enjoying myself. I plan, even when my goal is not to have a plan. I get a year. The culmination of the selfish year will end in me taking my 30th birthday trip. The 25th birthday was a 48-hour birthday (time zones and the freakishly long trip back from Thailand). So for my 30th, I thought it might be fun to have a summer skiing birthday. I'm planning on spending June 2014 in New Zealand, skiing with my friend Sharlene, whom I met while living in Germany.

Turning thirty is when "living and shit" really hits the fan. I know what I've always wanted, being a dad. After my trip to New Zealand, all my focus will be on adopting. I have no idea what to expect trying to adopt. People keep telling me that as a gay man it's going to be difficult emotionally, financially, and legally. But... that kinda sounds like having kids in general to me. Rest assured, there will most likely be bitchy blogs about the red tape and obscene expense involved with the adoption process.  Being married to a partner I can raise them with would be the icing on the cake, but I'm ok with just the cake too. Don't get me wrong. I believe it could happen, and am open to that, but if that doesn't happen, I still know my kids will. 

Meet Everett - he's my best friend

There will be some other decisions to make. I may be relocating again in the meantime. Salt Lake is a lovely city, but I moved here because I needed support. The universe was kind and gave it to me. It's just a little too dry and Mormon for me. Now, I would be ready to move for the right career, where I can raise the kids in a place that would recognize the rights of both their daddies (or just their dad). The job hunt to fund the family starts in a couple months. I'm picking one west coast city, one east coast city, Colorado, and a wildcard location. I'll apply to every job I think would be a great enough opportunity, keeping in mind my real goal of kids. If I have to move for a better chance of making that happen, neat.

Living and shit is enough right now. Life in Maine got really hard for a lot of reasons, not just the very unhealthy relationship (although that certainly didn't help). My work life and the commute attached were intense; I wasn't able to build a social circle outside of the ex. He was almost all I had to come home to and we weren't working. I became introverted, suspicious, angry, self-conscious, and afraid. The person I was in Maine is not the person I wanted to be the rest of my life. It turns out that thinking I couldn't live without the ex, made me think less about my own value. I took the step to leave the relationship because I'd forgotten who I was, what I wanted life to look like. I'm so glad I did and he is too (I'm assuming of course).  I'm going to enjoy the last year of the 20's, and prepare myself for living the 30's the way I want. So... on with the living and shit! 

The Relationship Continuum

This blog was for a long time dedicated to my gay "marriage" and now is going to help me through my gay "divorce." I put quotations just because we were never able to get married legally until the breakup was eminent. I found few role models for a gay marriage but gay divorce is just like any other divorce - it sucks balls. Gay or straight, I have to imagine it is normal to analyze what went wrong. The lesson I learned came at the cost of a four-year relationship. This "relationship continuum" is something I will carry into my next relationship with whomever (or whenever) that might be.

We all have personality traits that can be packaged and sold as benefits, or highlighted as negatives. Someone who thrives on change could be construed as an unreliable flight risk. Being laid back could be viewed as being a lazy ass clown. Being a foodie could be perceived as being a pretentious prick about something commonplace, eating (count your blessing if you don't know an extreme foodie). No matter how you package these personality traits, there is always its opposite and finding the opposite can help position the relationship as a whole. 

Gratuitous kitty shot for those who are only on the internet for such things.

Since it has almost nothing to do with the actual reason my own relationship ended, I'm going to use the example of spirituality to help clarify my point. On one hand we have someone who is religious (neither a positive or negative thing). Let's just think of its opposite: secular athiesm (again no positive or negative value). I know assigning no positive or negative to something may be hard for the religious who read this post. Oh wait, it's hard for anyone - it's kind of what we do as humans. This is where the continuum comes into play; place opposing forces on either side of it. 

Religious - - - - - - - - - - | - - - - - - - - -  Secular

If the religious among you are pissed they are on the left side, quit being a child and imagine it's on the right.

If you happen to end up in a relationship with someone who is at the opposing end of a personality continuum, there is an obvious struggle. Granted, there is probably not going to be a relationship between two people at extremely opposing ends (particularly of this continuum). I imagine someone from Westboro Baptist dating, well, anyone. It's not pretty and not likely to ever even start a relationship. Let's assume though there are two people at opposing ends; there is going to have to be some movement to maintain cohesion between the two partners.

Religious - * - - - - - - - - | - - - - - - - * -  Secular

If both partners refuse to budge from their position at the more extreme end of the continuum, conflict will remain the entire relationship, or will more than likely end in a breakup. 

Religious - - - - - - - - - - - | * - - - - - - * -  Secular

Religious - * - - - - - - - * | - - - - - - - - -  Secular

If one partner refuses to budge from their position at the more extreme end of the continuum, and the other partner moves beyond the meridian, the partner who crosses the meridian has lost themselves to the other person and often sacrifices their own self-concept (i.e. someone becoming Mormon just because their partner will only marry in the Temple).

Religious - - - - - - * - - - | - - - * - - - - -  Secular

The ideal situation would be where both partners are willing to move towards the middle. There may still be the occasional fight, but partners can agree to disagree while still maintaining their self-concept. 

Again, this can be used for any number of personality conflicts: the pretentious foodie versus the unconcerned mac-n-cheese eater, the social butterfly versus the wall flower, the high-strung workaholic versus the gelatinous layabout, the changeling versus old reliable. We all have our foibles and are bound to have some of those foibles be at odds with our partner. I think most often selecting and marrying a partner where these conflicts are 1) not absolutely fundamental and 2) are the exception rather than the rule will make a successful relationship. 

However, when a conflict arises on the relationship continuum (which it almost certainly will), I think the relationship can only continue happily if both partners are willing to move their positions on the continuum. Old reliable is going to have to learn to be a little less structured and the changeling is going to have to settle down a little. The social butterfly is going to have to stay in and watch a movie occasionally and the wallflower is going to have to get down and boogie with new people from time to time. 

None of us is perfect, but if we are willing to move along the continuum, and find a partner who is willing to do the same, we will find a beautiful balance where we can live out our lives in a relationship that means something. I for one think this is a possibility for most of us, excepting of course those in the Westboro Baptist Church. There is no continuum for them, only craziness.  

The Baby Hunger Games

First, let's take a moment and think about the funny ways the title of this blog can be taken. I picture:

1) Babies fighting to the death for food. Not funny. Sad.

2) People battling to the death to eat babies. Disturbing.

3) On second thought, maybe I should stop. These are getting increasingly not funny.

To the point.

I want to be a dad. Real bad. I've always wanted a happy marriage and I have that. (If we are going by commitment here, I'm married. If we're going by legal status, I'm a homo.) I've always wanted a job I could be proud of where I felt like I did good things. Have that too. I'm not even going to get started on the house because I'm starting to sound really pretentious as I read these words to myself. I'm very blessed and I hope I acknowledge that often without sounding deserving.

But something's missing. Both Ammon and I feel the same way, I'm sure. Although, out loud, we've never said the words "I want kids right now," we both know it's the next step and can hardly wait. One thing that has it on both our minds is our good friends about to have their first baby. We are so excited to meet him/her (for now we call him/her Hootoo). The kid is going to have an awesome life thanks to Hootoo's equally awesome parents. We get to bask in parenthood vicariously, while leaving the constant tiredness to Hootoo's mommy and daddy. Even being baby hungry I can admit that I'm not looking forward to that. Barf.

So in the meantime... Everything else I do to improve or advance myself kind of feels like a game - to misdirect me from the fact that I don't have what I want right now. Keep myself busy for a while until the kiddos get here, so to speak. Wanna tear the house apart? Sure! Want to volunteer? Sign me up! Want to get slightly obsessed with Yoga? Seriously, I have an addiction to stretching. Help me.

Anywho, that's where I'm at. I'm happy but anxious to get what I'm really after - a family. We have our little family now and I love it. There's just someone out there who could use us as parents and until I meet them (whether through adoption or surrogacy) sometimes everything else seems like a game. Distracting me from the people (our kids) I haven't met but somehow miss.

Cycling through my goodbye to Bradford

I know there are certain steps that we cycle through when grieving the life of a friend or family member. I'm not certain of them and I'm not going to look them up. I just need, for my own sake, to catalogue how I'm feeling. I lost someone I counted as a dear friend this week, Bradford. I cycle through a series of thoughts and emotions, all of which are just awful.

Mad at 1) Bradford, 2) Myself, 3) The System: I get so mad at Bradford. I want to text you and get your quirky response back. Plan a reunion meeting in Salt Lake or Nantucket. Convince you and the kids to come and visit us here in Maine. To know how you're doing. It's at this moment that I realize I'm being a complete dick. "How can you get mad at someone who DIED?! You are just the worst kind of person," I tell myself. Then I get mad at myself. For being mad at Bradford. For not being a better friend when I had the chance. For not somehow preventing it. I then reason with myself enough that I realize I shouldn't be mad at myself either. I didn't cause his death and if I'd known it was coming I would have done anything I could. This finally leads me to blame the system. Death sucks. Life sucks. This is just all one big pile of shit and the more people try and make sense of it the more it just sinks into a big confusing pile of black gross death. (Please don't worry, I only stay in this stage for a few moments.) This leads to my second stage.

Complete and utter confusion: What the hell good does it do for me to hate the system? Hating the system doesn't bring anyone back. Hating the system doesn't explain the system. So then I just get confused. What do you mean he's just NOT HERE anymore? I get the body isn't working, but what happened to the personality? I want to believe, because him and his wife are now in the same physical state, that their personalities are in the same state too. I hope that they can be together, like they belong. But I don't KNOW where Bradford and Heather are, and it starts to make me sad...

Terrifying sinking sadness: This is where I cry. My heart aches when I think about Bradford's last moments. That they were alone and sad. I think about his wife, Heather, and him. That the world is now a much darker place without them in it. They had a kind of love that people write books about. No one that knew them would deny that the two were an absolute match and they adored each other. When Bradford lost Heather to cancer (which she fought for years), I think part of Bradford died then too. One of the last times I saw Bradford was at his wife's side. He had quit work to take care of her full time. Seeing him lean over her making sure she was comfortable was one of the most touching scenes of my life. But Bradford was not the same. His pain oozed from him, although he always had a smile and tried spreading it to others.

I'm sad Heather died so young. I'm sad Bradford died so young. But the two things I mourn the most are the loss of their relationship and the kids. Heather completed him and I assume it was the other way around too (I didn't know Heather quite as well). It is just a really tragic end to what was a beautiful story involving truly exceptional people. I ache wishing they'd been dealt a better hand. I feel bad for the kids so much it hurts. They will forever hear of the truly amazing human beings they had for parents, but never get to know them. Bradford and Heather lit up the world around them and anyone that knows the kids can tell they got their parents' fire.

There is no acceptance: After the terrifying sinking sadness has run its course, and I've cried, I go right back to anger. I don't know how many mourning steps there are (I think it's five), but I understand the last is acceptance. I think "acceptance" is just realizing that that I'm going to feel like this from now on. Slowly the cycles will come less intensely, and then fewer and farther between. Life goes on and much of it will be happy, but I think a little piece of me will always be pissed Bradford's death happened and that's it's irreversible. I will always be confused that I can't call him up the next time I'm in Utah and hang out. I will always be sad when I think about the lost love of Heather and Bradford and sad that the kids grow up without them. Acceptance does not feel good. I love you Bradford and I refuse to "accept" that all of this is ok or normal. I will always hate that you and Heather left. That's the best I can come to acceptance.

Me, Ren, Bradford, and Cami before heading to the SLC Pride Parade 2010

Remembering the gay sweatpants fight

So, I started this blog under the premise that it's somewhat difficult for a gay couple to navigate married life when there are few role models around. This is one of those instances that I was talking about. I'm sure there are stories from every couple (gay, straight, or...miscellaneous) on how they handle territory disputes. The "this is MY house or this is MY car." But I doubt there are such similar disputes as Ammon's and mine (you'll know what I mean in a minute... jeez).

When Ammon and I became a couple, I know there was one aspect of our relationship that was completely unlike any aspect of a straight couple I had yet met and, more importantly, still have not met. We wear the exact same size clothing. I'm not kidding. Pant size, shoe size, hat size, shirt size. Although some of them fit him better than me at the moment. I'm working on it. I've lost five pounds so I can keep order to my universe.

This has spawned several problems. The first of which being, what we have dubbed "tweedle dee" syndrome. Without having a clue of what the other is wearing, we often end up in almost the exact same outfit. We are then immediately embarrassed to be seen with the other one.

"Oh, God! Didn't you see me leave this morning?!"

"No! I was sleeping!"

"Well, who's going home to change?!"

"Fine. I'll go home and change."

Guess who is who in this scenario? I'll give you a hint: I'm the asshole (usually).

But the other major problem this has caused is serious territory disputes. I have no doubt that straight people have territory disputes. How could you not? Nothing prepares you for suddenly having to divy up half of your possessions on the hunch that this person isn't going to seriously screw you over? I trust Ammon with my life, and do. That's why we're married. Practically, thank you Maine...but don't worry, in 2012 it's on. But I digress. I trust him, but isn't that part of the gamble we make in couples? Giving up half our shit?

Now imagine the typical straight couple giving all that up, combined with the fact that, because of our unique size (and gender) match, I don't even have any of my own clothes anymore. All of it is shared. From the house to the underwear, folks. Naturally, being the asshole, I was the one that finally flipped out. It was my UMaine Sweatpants. They are the most comfortable and wonderful of all sweatpants. Not to mention they are UMaine, and I love anything associated with Maine.

So one day I came home, right, and had a really abysmal day of teaching. I came home expecting to crawl into my sweatpants and Ammon was in them........ It got intense. I slept on the floor in the other room. I'm not sure, I'll have to clarify with Ammon, but I'm almost positive it was our first blow-out fight. Over sweatpants. Yes. This happened. I'd had enough of suddenly having to share all the things I had earned with my own hard work.

Obviously, we got over it. We have since moved three times together and the last one was buying our home together. I have literally nothing that is just mine anymore and it feels...quite honestly, awesome. Remembering these anomalies of our relationship reminds me why I fight so hard. I don't need a religious marriage to legitimize my relationship. What I will have is a legal marriage that protects what is already legitimized. If that doesn't represent someone's values about marriage, then they should get married at a church, where I don't need to (or I guess can't) get married.

What I have is weird. Beyond the fact that I'm married to a dude, I've lost my clothes. How many other couples would honestly have to fight about who would take what pair of pants? My guess is not many. It's the weirdness that makes me realize how blessed I am and how much I will fight to protect it. Ammon is, down to the last sock, my other half. We have the same (every)things and want all the same things for our future. We're not going anywhere, and if we did, you'd be sad. Because, well, we're just nice people. Of course unless you f*** with Ammon or my sweatpants (Ammon, this includes you).