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).

Stop bugging yourself, stop bugging yourself, stop.....

My brother Jason emerged from our mother's womb with a PhD in bugging the shit out of people. And he has developed a real love for the discipline with age. Don't get me wrong, I love Jason. Everyone loves him. Even if he's pestering you, you can't help but want him around. Even if you could stop his bugging, you wouldn't want to because somehow you're enjoying yourself. Having said that, he is the master bugger. He was the sibling that would hold his finger centimeters from your face and say "what, I'm not touching you." Or the sibling that would make you forcibly slap yourself and chant "stop hitting yourself."

This is Jason with his little family. They're cute.

This is one of my nieces that Jason teased to tears.

And this is Jason.

I bring Jason up, not to harp on him, but to explain my own self-bugging. Apparently I got so used to the pestering and now do it to myself. Do you ever have those days where you think, "god, I have to make it a whole lifetime living as THIS person? Can I have someone else's personality, if even for a little bit?" Some might label this as "self-loathing" and, by the information I've given they'd probably be right. I, however, prefer to label it "my man period." I thought of coining the phrase "man menses" because I love alliteration, but let's be honest; the word menses is gross. Plus I'm describing the emotional/hormonal (ups-and-downs) equivalent of a period, not the physical equivalent of - well... let's not get into that - of a menses.

My man period begins with a day or two where I just REALLY bug the shit out of myself. Everything I say or do gets the internal mental response of "that's what you've got to say? Really? What a dumb ass." Or "Man, you really just keep on trying don't you? Like a mosquito sucking on a mummy." This is followed by a day or two of turning my annoyance to the outside world. Weep for Ammon, dear reader. He takes my man period in stride every month. Internalizing my Jason-like "stop hitting yourself, stop hitting yourself" is one thing, but turning it on poor unassuming Ammon is rough. Eventually I get tired of being an unmitigated asshole to everyone, and continue with another day or two of internalized "you fail at life."

After that, it's smooth sailing where I love life for about three weeks. Not to say that little things don't bug me or that I'm a master of my emotions three - four weeks out of the month (or ever for that matter). I have just noticed that if I allow myself a little time to wallow in my own self-bugging, I eventually get sick of it and return to my normal happy state. I don't know if others' man periods are as regular or pronounced as mine, but I guarantee most men have one. I won't say Ammon's schedule for the sake of marital cohesion, but trust me, he's got one. So do most of the men I know. I can get a brisk look up as an acknowledgement rather than a hello from a male co-worker and know "that guy's on his man period."

The Miner Brothers (Jacob, Jeremiah, and Jason) with Sierra at her wedding.

So Jason really has nothing to do with my "stop bugging yourself, stop bugging yourself" cycle, it's just because he is a master of his bugging craft that sometimes he's the voice I hear in my head. I am probably that voice to my two little sisters. Come to think of it, I wonder who Jason's "stop bugging yourself" voice is. I bet it's Dad.

When straights meet the boss

I had an interesting moment this week that made me think about how much people actually put themselves into other's shoes. I wondered, what an amazing world we would live in if people did that more often. This is not to say that I'm not guilty of the same, but I try and think of it more now that I'm part of a marginalized segment of our society. Well, at least SOME are trying to marginalize us...

This week Ammon got to meet my boss. She has wanted to meet him for some time which excited me because I actually quite look up to my boss. A while ago, when I confessed to her that I was gay and explained my trepidation in coming out to her, she said something to the effect of "this company accepts anyone who does their job and works hard regardless. If you ever have any problems I want to know about it." When Ammon and my boss met it was the typical "nice to meet you" "likewise" interaction that you would expect when a spouse met the boss. I was so ecstatic to be at this point in my life I could hardly stand it.

I am fortunate beyond what I thought was possible. I'm open about who I love and am building my life with, and even those that don't like it don't let it interfere with our day to day interactions. Because (and I've heard this from people that are religious and don't agree with my life), it doesn't matter to them. To quote someone who put it slightly less eloquently: "I think it's gross, but that doesn't mean it's ok to treat you differently." This all got me thinking. I thought about my life in Utah and how people make it matter to them despite the fact it really is none of their concern. Utah is certainly not alone in this. I would never have dreamed of introducing Ammon to any of my bosses. Up until recently, had I lived in Utah (or other states), it would have been legal to fire me for it.

To all the straight people who read this, do you worry about introducing the love of your life to your boss? In most cases, I would assume not. Do you worry about being told you can have no family, biological or adopted? Probably not. Do you worry every day that one day your loved one might have an accident and they would have to die alone in the hospital because people in your state voted that's how things should be? I'm going to venture a guess and again say no.

The next time you step into a voting booth or even discuss rights of LGBT people, if just for one second, think of these things. Realize that you are not just voting to say that I DON'T DESERVE marriage, you are voting that I DO DESERVE to die alone, that I DO DESERVE to lose everything Ammon and I spent a lifetime building, and that I DO DESERVE to live without a family for the rest of my life. I have nothing against conservatism or religion, I think both can be beautiful things. I understand your problem with it, because I myself struggled. But when you use your political or religious leanings to tell 10% of the world that they DESERVE a more stressful, sad, and lonely bereft life than you because of it, I wonder how you dare call yourself a Christian with a straight face.

I want the same things you want. When I was about to choose death in order to escape my sexuality I turned back because something told me "you get one life. Even if this is bad, what lives inside you, you can spend the rest of your life putting good into this world." I want to be a good husband, father, and person. I want to leave the world a better place than what I found it. If ever you're in a situation where you're in a job you love, and your wife/husband is meeting your boss for the first time and you can practically feel the joy bursting from you, please think of all the other good people in the world who can't experience the same thing. Think of how you possibly brought that upon them just because you didn't understand what it was like to be them and either voted or showed that they didn't deserve it.

God forbid, things could change and one day whatever genetics were handed to you might make people think you deserve less than them and now you're the one who DESERVES a more difficult, in some cases tragic, life. I hope you don't experience that ever and when your spouse meets your boss that the moment is as pleasant as mine was. All I'm asking (and those who stand with me) is that right now you can hope the same for a group of people you may not entirely understand.

Weekly, no wait, yearly priorities

First night! Had plenty of drinks at this point...ready for food...

All the pictures this week are from our New Year's Eve party at Hollie's. We partied hard, slept in late, and made an awesome breakfast. Great way to end a great year.

Every week at my work, my manager asks me for a "weekly priorities" email. It's a sign of how nerdy I am, that I actually enjoy this exercise. I write the three biggest accomplishments of the week and then the three biggest tasks I hope to accomplish the next week. Since it's a new year, I thought I should document the priorities I've set for myself in 2012. My hope is that by changing from a resolution, to a priority, I'll somehow manage to keep my priorities a little more than I have resolutions in the past.

Before I start my yearly priorities I want to acknowledge the things about 2011 I will not miss. Social drama; I had a lot of it at really intense levels this year and I'm glad to leave it in 2011. Uncertainty; I spent half the year worried about finding a job or finding a house - hoping that 2012 is a little more stable.

This is our friend Melissa with her dog Harley, a tibetan terrier. Love them both.

Accomplished this year:

1. Started a career. I finished graduate school, the two hardest working years of my life. I sank my teeth into graduate school and pulled hard. Generally speaking, that's how I approach everything. The rest of 2011 I focused that energy towards work, since I felt I'd gotten as far in my academic education as I'd like to go. I found an awesome job, and hated it immediately. I won't say why, but suffice it to say that I was bizarrely depressed in my first big job out of college. I refused to get used to how I was feeling so I looked for work elsewhere and found a job that I'm lucky to have. Working for Camden National has been an awesome experience and I hope to accomplish a lot next year. I look forward to work everyday and I acknowledge that blessing often.

2. Bought a house. I've wanted to own a house since I was 18. Yeah, I'm the kid that would drive around calling on cool houses for sale; pretending that I actually had a job and a life that justified having a house. I've always hated paying rent. I find it fundamentally offensive that I spend my money paying someone else's mortgage. Renting is a necessary evil and I've never viewed it as anything but. Not to offend anyone who rents...this got awkward, didn't it? Anyway, now that I have my house, I spend most of my free time and money on making it a home. Painting, building, gardening, cleaning, and stopping to admire each project as it finishes.

3. Started my family. We have been dating for a couple years, but this was the one where Ammon and I really solidified that we are a family. Some people don't understand that, but it doesn't matter. We are a family whether or not people understand it. Our goals are shared, everything from family to finances bound together. We would have been legally married this year but unfortunately the people of Maine voted that we don't deserve the same things as straight people. But like I said, that doesn't matter. We built our family as best we could AROUND marriage because we weren't allowed actual access. The time will come when we are given equal access and Ammon and I know that we'll be one of the first couples there to have the ceremony performed.

Hollie and Ammonoid. We squeezed her a lot because she'd been gone for weeks.

Next year's priorities:

1. Visit more family. A trip to Utah and a trip to Hawaii have been made priorities for 2012. We miss our Utah and Hawaii family real bad. Hopefully, I will have some of my sisters out to visit us here in Maine and Ammon has one sister that might also visit. We have our home/family and now we want family to come and share in our happiness. Of course, this priority comes with a heavy cost so we will see how much we actually get accomplished on this front.

2. Add to the family. Geneva needs a brother. Being one of those weird people that thinks of his dog like he does one of his children, it makes me sad knowing Geneva sits at home alone all day. Also, I just love dogs and would like another one. Again, a dog is an expensive priority so who knows if this will actually happen. That's the nice thing though about a priority versus a resolution. I'm not dead set on this, but I'm going to work my hardest to have a puppy with some kind of crazy Hawaiian name (there are so many vowel combinations in hawaiian the words sometimes make me laugh). I named Geneva so Ammon gets to name (anonymous) and it's a safe bet he'll pick some deep meaning hawaiian word. I'm allowed to put a syllable limit on said name though, so no worries.

3. Be more active in other areas of my life. Exercise, volunteering, politics, hobbies were all pushed to the side as I focuses on finding a job and a house. 2012 will see me more involved in life outside my work and involved in my community. The only place I've ever loved living more than here in Maine is Germany. Since I'm not moving there any time soon, I want to make the absolute most of my time here in Maine. Give back to the place that gives so much to me. 2012 has a lot of intense stuff happening; London Olympics, Presidential Election, Armageddon (if you go by the Mayan calendar anyway). I'm going to sink my teeth into 2012 and get what I can out of it, while stopping to enjoy all the other awesome stuff happening in the world this year.

This was our hangover breakfast. Blueberry Cheesecake Pancakes and bacon. Stupid good.

The dining room...OF DESTINY!

Sorry, It's just a regular dining room. Not at all a dining room of destiny. I just wanted to get your attention. Well, now that I have it, take a look at what we did to the dining room!

I hate wallpaper, it's no secret. And I think there is a special place in hell for those that voluntarily cover horsehair plaster in wallpaper (and I'm pretty sure those that put it from ceiling to floor in every room have their entire existence blotted from the record). Tearing the paper down was a nightmare - we had to mud and sand three different times to get the walls smooth from the holes the paper left behind. But it was worth it...

The other difficult part of this renovation was the built-in cabinet. We had to sand all the drawers to make sure they actually slide, sand everything else so it was smooth and ready for paint, buy new hardware, then actually paint and finish the damn thing. Again, I think it was worth it...


I got to pick out the painting. :) It's Gustav Klimt's "tree of life." I love the concept of a tree of life, Gustav Klimt, and that the colors matched our room. So there.

Then there was the ceiling and it's equally hideous light fixture. We fixed the ceiling tiles and painted them high-gloss white so the detail stands out more, then bought and installed a new chandelier that matches the one in the hallway. It's ok to tell me that you think it looks awesome.


We also did curtains. We had blinds before, which I actually prefer (and WILL have again whether Ammon likes it or not), but the room needed something. So, Ammon made these dark purple curtains that match the dark purple on the inside of the built-in hutch. Also, Ammon got to buy the decorations for the table.



There really is only one thing missing in the dining room and that is Ammon's tapa cloth. It's this thing Hawaiian families make out of bark and they paint intricate designs. Here's a link to a picture of one just so you know what I'm talking about. Anyway, all we have to do is get his family's tapa cloth framed and then hang it on the big empty wall above the serving table. Renovation complete after that.

Really, the best part of this whole process was the environment in which it happened. While working on it over the last few weeks we've had awesome friends stop by and help out or just chat while we worked. In particular, we became much closer with two people. The first is Forrest, pictured in what appears to be a knight-in-shining-armor pose (to be honest, I don't know what he was going for here...but I still love the picture). We watched A Christmas Story and had chinese food. He's great and I'm glad to know him. The second was our friend Leah. She got to help launch the new dining room by spending Christmas Eve and Christmas day with us. It was the first time we made intensely fancy meals, served on our plates, in our dining room, with our friends. A complete and welcome lack of drama. This year was tough for Ammon and I, but as awful as things got, that's how awesome they are now. I'm grateful for my friends, family, and of course this freaking amazing house. Now, what room should we do next? Hmmm......

A Mormon Missionary Moment

Recently I've been thinking a lot about my Mormon mission. Mainly because of the debate about gay marriage and those in support of denying me equal rights. Don't worry, this entry is more about my Mormon mission than it is the diatribe about me being denied equal rights just because of who I love. Rest assured, that diatribe will sporadically pop up in this blog. While reading the first of three journals I wrote while serving my mission, I ran across a couple entries and thought I really needed to share them. They are as follows (everything in italics is my me interjecting from my perspective nowadays):

November 15, 2003

BYU and Notre Dame game day! A rich member of the church had bought all the missionary leaders in the area tickets. Sierra's birthday! We all scream for ice cream! They lost but was still really cool. To this day, my strongest memory of this game was the Notre Dame side screaming "I've got spirit, how bout you? I've got one wife, you've got two!" I laughed every time. I've lost my little voice from screaming so much. Here is the little ticket stub for memorabilia's sake. The ticket is, in fact, still taped to this page of the journal. It was a really fun day and I felt totally normal again. I felt like I was just one of the guys at a football game. I don't know why I wrote this. I do not, nor have I EVER, liked watching sports or joining in such things. Elder and Sister Kenley are moving Monday and this makes me sad. This older married couple held me together at points when I could not do it myself. I will go to my deathbed happy they were there to support me. Apparently this freaky neighbor came on to Sister Kenley while Elder Kenley was gone. Did I mention that the freaky neighbor was a woman? I was extremely critical and afraid of anything gay. I now know it was in an effort to be a "good boy." Elder Hawkes got a ticket for speeding. This was my companion. Companion refers to the other male Mormon missionary you have to travel with for a time. You are never to leave your companion's side. I laughed because, well, I don't like him all that much. He is a very heartless person so to see him treated heartless was a nice change.

January 7, 2004

Holy sadness, Batman. Today was a definite tear jerker. First I said goodbye to Elder Howell, who I really grew to like (this is completely untrue. He screamed at me, calling me a fagot, several times because I liked to knit and I liked Spongebob Squarepants. He wasn't wrong, but still, what a dick.) then said hello to Elder Papke. He is from Sacramento and seems very nice. A little quiet but I'll work with him. :) Elder Papke was my second favorite companion. A genuine person who was also kind of weird. Two things I love in a friend. Then we had departures tonight. This was a meeting where all the missionaries getting "killed," going home because there two-year tenure was up, gave a speech about what they learned. We sang army of Helaman and yes I cried. I also said my final goodbye to Elder Hawkes (the douche bag I said I didn't like in the entry I just wrote about). He is a good man and I'm ashamed I didn't take full advantage of what he had to teach me while I had the chance. I told him thanks for all he'd done for me and good luck. He is going to live in Cedar City so maybe I'll see him around. Probably not, but hey, it's the thought that counts.

January 9, 2004

The last day of this saga of journal entries! Believe me, the subsequent journals were much more of a saga. It's been a fun ride. So today we did all our hospital stuff for Elder Papke. We thought he had TAPE WORM...long story. We also went to the cancer center and found out what we'll be doing for our volunteer hours next week. After that we tried to see a media contact ("media contacts" were when the Mormon TV commercials play and people order the free bible, we would deliver it and try to squeeze in a message or two) but he wasn't home. We then had lunch at Taco Bell. Funny, I'm still addicted to the quasi-meat gelatinous goo that is Taco Bell. We visited Billy Duncan today and he says he is still going strong not smoking. The saddest part of reading these journals is that I have absolutely no recollection of who half these people are. They dominated my life for a short time, and now that I read their names I come up with fog in my mind. I don't for sure but let's try and be positive here, people. We then went and saw Mark and Corry and that was just as awesome as it was the first time. These people I do remember because I saw Janet Jackson's boob fall out at the Super Bowl at their house. They said they will try to come to church now so I hope they follow through. That would be the highlight of my time here. We also saw Sister Figuroa. Without even saying it, you know that was great, so enough said. "Sister Figuroa" is to this day a good friend of mine and very supportive of me as a human being. I will forever be grateful for my mission, because it introduced me to Sister Figuroa and other people that I consider family.

December 4, 2011

Reading this is weird. Being a Mormon missionary is a lifestyle that no one can fully understand unless they've lived it. I was always trying to be extremely positive, even about the douche bag companions, because I thought presenting otherwise to the world would make me seem like a bad person. I relied heavily on the strength of others to carry across parts that I, quite honestly, could not handle myself.

As I have been reading this first of three journals I have this to say about my Mormon mission: it made me a more functioning adult. I was put in situations that were incredibly uncomfortable and forced to deal with the outcome. Do you know what it's like to harass a college student running to class about their beliefs and try to convince them they are missing something? All the while making it seamless and not awkward? Me either. But I do know what it's like to have an incredibly awkward conversation about Jesus with someone I don't know while they are rushing to class. Without my mission, I wonder if I would never have attempted some of the things I have in my adult life including: graduate school, teaching at the university, or taking the job I have now.

I don't know what to call myself now. Mormon? Not any more, not after what I've experienced. Atheist? No. Agnostic? That seems to be the closest fit at this point. Don't get me wrong, I am not content at being agnostic. In the book "Life of Pi" the author explains his view on agnosticism: "To choose doubt as a philosophy of life is akin to choosing immobility as a means of transportation." I can somewhat agree with this but disagree at some level too. I am a spiritual person and I know there is something more to what I'm experiencing. But I absolutely refuse to accept what I was raised with just because it is easier than finding it on my own. To me, agnosticism is not a destination, but a designation of someone that is en route. I don't know what is true yet, I may never know, but I keep searching.

True, I don't believe the same things I did back then. Also true, I wish I could have learned the same lessons in a different way. That being said, all I can do now smile about the times I had and the lessons I learned. I'm an open gay man that also knows what it's like to be a Mormon missionary. These seemingly opposing worlds made me more open-minded. Although, I don't think they are that opposing - I have many of the same values as I did then: hard work, self sacrifice, self discipline, dedicating yourself to something larger, and I certainly endorse traveling through life with a male companion all the time... Trying to convince non-Mormons to believe something different did the opposite, it showed me THEIR perspective. I went out on my mission thinking that converting others would make me a better person. Instead, they showed me a life outside Mormonism. For the first time in my life, I realized with certainty that I may not know exactly what I'm talking about and that other people's opinions are just as valid as my own. This didn't teach me that Mormonism was wrong or bad, but that it wasn't the only way to think. It is eternally ironic that entering a world focused on teaching others that they should reconsider their beliefs, is the very thing that taught me to really examine mine and leave what didn't fit.