the july update

I was bad this month.  Whoopsie.  I had like... two paragraphs written for a blog on the 4th of July and when it came to be a week later, the point in posting "an independent day" didn't really hold the same oomph as I'd have liked.  But that's neither here nor there.

So hi!

I love July and I hate it.  All at the same time and for varying reasons.  I love that it's the hottest month of the year (and I hate that it's the hottest month of the year.)  It means summer is in high-swing and also means summer is getting that much closer to being over.  Fireworks (yay!) and mosquitos (boo!) but fun trips down the river are abound (triple yay!)  This July I was only able to go down the river once but hopefully I can get a couple more trips in during August.  Juuuuuust like I would hopefully make more videos...

This July was a good one though, all in all.  It wasn't really great but it really wasn't bad.  No boys to break my heart, plenty of time with friends, a few rough days at work that left me feeling less than pleased and of course more than enough fits of hysterical laughter to balance it out.  I gave a speech a year ago about how we measure time "be it in memories or moments," and I do have to say that lately it's been measured in moments.  Sometimes for me it gets measured in minutes.  There are times when it is measured in seconds.

The seconds are the rough ones.

I'm getting ahead of myself.

The month started with a bang (literally, 4th of July, whoop!)  We made our way up to Crivitz to go tubing down the Peshtigo, first trip of the year and an absolute blast.  A year or two ago we went right after the 4th and it had been a nightmare of people there with us waiting over an hour just to get on the bus to the water.  Surprisingly there was no one around this time.  Well... a family of 3 but they were long gone by the time we got to scootin' down the river.  I always love the trips where I don't have to drive because it means I don't have to stay sober.  And while I'm not a big drinker, it's nice to cut loose every now and then.

Usually it just results in me being really groggy and bouts of silliness that can either a) amuse or b) annoy.  Whichever, really.

Fireworks were in Neenah for me this year, abandoning the usual Jefferson Park in Menasha (which you can see going on middle/right of each picture.)  There's something about fireworks on the 4th that seal the deal for me and if I can help it, I'll never miss them.  @markstyleme joined that night with @joleneelizabeth and he asked why I liked the 4th so much.  It actually got me thinking while the show was going on.  We always went to fireworks when I was a kid.  My hometown, Redlands, did this big parade and celebration in one of the city parks and I think it always stuck with me as a day to celebrate.

But not the year I ran home after fireworks when I was ten because I felt sick and ended up literally shitting my pants on the front porch.

True story.

I suppose it boils down to the fact that most holidays throughout the year don't really bear such visual enthusiasm (save for Halloween, Thanksgiving and Christmas) and Independence Day sets that in motion.  Sure you have Valentine's Day (barf) and Easter (blah blah) but this one puts the rest of the year on track and lets you get into the spirit.  There are worse things to do than celebrate your nation's independence.  I'm not about to go streaking with the American flag billowing from my butt but you know what I'm saying.  Any holiday that gets me feeling nostalgic is A-okay by me!

On the 18th I flew off to Austin to visit family.  It had been almost two years since I'd been there and back in June I made the spur of the moment decision I wanted to go.  As always, it was a great trip and I was, once again, sad to see it end.  Mostly because the return from a destination vacation (as opposed to a "staycation") means you are that much closer to going back to work.  But making the best of my time is what I'm good at and it made me stop counting the seconds, even if for a little while.

The above pic was the first night I was there and taken at a place called Hula Hut.  Freak windstorm picked up and was blowing shit all over the place (chips, menus, and even drinks) but it was still fun.  I find the older I get the more I am starting to look like my big brother Josh... and a dark destiny unfolds.

Sorry Joshua.

We did a bunch of new things on this visit compared to those in the past.  We went to a great place called Hamilton Pool (Google it) for some swimming, ran around Town Lake (though I guess it's technically "Lady Bird Lake" now?) and of course indulged in copious amounts of food and treats (Austin looooooves food.)  The best part of the trip was going to the Alamo Drafthouse (seriously the coolest movie theater I've ever been to) for Master Pancake.  If you've never heard of it it's basically Mystery Science Theater 3000 but LIVE!  The movie they did was ConAir, which is such an incredibly stupid movie anyway, and Josh splurged for balcony seats for us.

That ALONE would be a reason to move Austin.  I mean really, I can't describe how great an experience this theater is.  They serve you a full meal.  You can have whatever drinks you want.  18 years old and up only, lots of swearing in the pre-show, and they cut their own trailers to make fun of people that call and complain about the place?  Sign.  Me.  Up!

There was a lot riding on this visit I'm not going to lie.  The first time I went to Texas to visit my brother I was in the midst of a relationship falling apart at the seams so the last thing on my mind was if I would ever want to live there.  It was June of 2010 and lemme tell you, you haven't experienced heat until you've been to Austin in June.  Yikes.  The second time was a little more than a year later and fell in November.  Gotta say, perfect weather; low 70's, breezy, no humidity.  It reminded me a lot of Southern California and that's never a bad thing.  But I was living with my parents and just getting back on my feet both emotionally and financially and it just wasn't the right time to think about it.

This trip was different.

I'm financially stable and on my feet.  I live on my own now.  I've cut the proverbial umbilical cord to my parents supporting me (which was actually difficult for me.  They make it waaaaay to easy to live with them, lol.  Had they lived closer to town... can't say I wouldn't be living with them still.)  So going to Austin THIS time meant I was going with the idea of "Can I live here?"  It's time to admit (though some may have guessed) I can answer the question with a resounding "yes."  Moving out on my own was really the first step toward figuring out what I actually wanted in life.  And while Wisconsin has been good to me and I can't really complain about my life here... I just want more.  I feel like I need more.  I wouldn't know that until I was on my own and now that I am, it's clear.

The thing I need to realize is there is nothing wrong with feeling that.  There is nothing wrong with trying to pull more from my life, to expect it to be something more than it is.  What holds me back is the guilt I have in leaving people behind and even as I write that, I feel like it sounds as if I'm abandoning said people and I'm not.  But there it is, case in point.  The other day I had to say goodbye to one of the best associates I have ever had.  Her name is Katie.  Getting to know her over the last year has been such a joy for me and the day I flew out for Texas I found out she would be moving back to her home city of Orlando with her husband to begin her teaching career.  I was devastated.  Whenever people that make an impact on me have to move on, I write them a letter.  Usually (always) it's aimed at getting a couple tears, it's just what I do.  This instance really got me to start thinking though about time... and it got me to realize why I've been counting the seconds so much.

I've been waiting for something to happen.  I've been waiting for a sign to show me what I want to do next, to show me how I want to execute things in my life.  Going to Austin showed me where I need to go and now I just need to figure out how to do it.  Will it be next year?  Probably not.  But in the next two years?  Yes.  I feel if I go next year I'll be stretching myself too thin financially, but if I wait more than two I'll never do it.  I shared with Katie in her letter one of my absolute favorite quotes and it is from one of the Lemony Snicket books.

Eventually you just have to stop waiting and start doing.  I can't blame her for moving on and doing what she needs to do because eventually it'll be me.  And there will be people sad when I go (I assume) but that's not right now... which is alright.

Coincidentally it did get me to think about a show from... shit, over a decade ago now.  The CW had a short-lived series in 2002 called "Birds of Prey" that followed the trials and tribulations of the daughter Batman had with Catwoman.  It was a terrible show trying to spin itself to life from the success of Smallville and it failed miserably.  I only watched a few episodes but one had this amazing quote I ended up writing down and using (in a different form) in my first book.  I'll never forget this quote that came on the heels of someone pondering a big decision: "You just have to believe, make the leap, and have faith."

Who's ready to jump?  I know I am (c:

So what else happened in July?  I completed editing the drycopy (printed version) of my second book, lost my favortie sunglasses in the river (thanks @caitcd) and continued my goal of running.  I finally finished decorating my living room, threw my back out pretty severely the day before leaving for Austin, and decided on my next tattoo.  Bought the final four sessions for my laser hair removal, visited an old brothel on an island (no longer a brothel), and of course fell out of my apartment door in front of a neighbor.  Got a little more tan, hopefully a little more thin, kicked a lot of ass selling furniture, and in the end continued on my path to feeling enlightened.

Toodles gang (c:

the june update

June is always a welcome sight for me.  For sore eyes, almost.  I'll probably never stop tying it to the end of the school year and the start of freedom (summer, hey-o!)  I actually had a great deal of trepidation going into June, namely for two reasons: 1) May ended on such a high note and 2) June 1st resulted in a breakup.  Breakups suck, there's no way around that, but I was pretty successful in turning it around and parlaying it into something useful.  And when you can turn away from the negative and embrace the positive, that's never a bad thing.  I guess it could be a bad thing, but not for this guy!

Sometimes I end up getting panicky at this time of the year because with summer being so typically short in Wisconsin if you aren't doing "fun stuff" right away you start feeling like you're missing out on it.  I say "fun stuff" loosely as clearly it just means being outside and enjoying the heat, but you know what I mean.  Last year I had such a list of crap to get done during the summer for "26 Golden Things" that the season was over before I knew it (albeit it was still a fantastic summer.)

But June had poop weather this year for the first couple weeks so it wasn't easy to get out and about from the safety of being in-doors.  I took the weather as a chance to get over the breakup (still don't think I am, but that's alright for now) by getting back to my creativity.  Nothing makes you work harder on a project than trying desperately not to text someone, and that's a fact!

I did decide recently that it's about time for me to start dating again.  Casually, which is a concept I really struggle with.  I've always been the kind of guy where if I like someone, I'll go on a date with them.  If that date goes well, we go on a few more.  If those few more go just fine, then we are in a relationship.  Bing-bang-boom.  Trouble with that is I usually go into the relationship because I feel like I owe it to the person and sometimes (most times) it just doesn't end up working out.  I know the last reason to enter a relationship should be because you feel guilted into it, but that's me.  I won't say it's the charm of me being me, because that shit ain't charming.

So I'm trying this new concept (to me) of casual dating where I go on a couple dates and see if anything clicks.  It's difficult for me because I have a very guilty conscience and I start feeling like I'm being a liar to these people.  Even though I owe them nothing, and nothing is really happening, I still feel it.  Why is that?  Have any of you felt that way?  I guess it boils down to me usually being the one that gets let down by someone else, so when I have to do it it is just a completely foreign concept to me.  There are worse things in the world than that though and I have to remind myself it's okay to try to get to know someone and then decide they aren't what is right for you.  I guess it's tough shit for them?  Sure.

I find that after I write a paragraph I sit back, sigh, and then jump on Facebook for a moment or two.  Just an aside for ya'll.

My friend Jill and I went to the Dells for a couple days two weeks ago, just like we did last year, and again it was pretty amazing.  Last year I was kind of sour over it because right off the bat I broke the screen on my camera and you know how that song and dance goes.  We went to Noah's Ark (America's largest waterpark for those not "in the know") for a day and had an absolute blast.  It was nerve wracking last year to get on the Scorpion's Tail (an inverted watercoaster) but this year we went three or four times because the lines were so short and it was just too much damn fun.  Got a wonderful burn on my shoulders, too.

Oh, AND I got another vlog together!  The idea had been floating in my head for a few weeks and then the ruling on DOMA and Proposition 8 got me to actually sit down and do it.  Amongst other things.  I need to figure out how to make a more exciting intro though because it's kind of a snooze and not very enthralling.  Good things in time!  What's interesting about making these videos though is slipping into character when I need to.. Calvin in particular.  I don't consider myself a very innocent person so it just astounds me to watch myself as him and those sadsadsad eyes when he gets in trouble.  I love it.  I hope you do too.

I need to start taking notes through the month because sitting down to write these at the last minute is a damn nightmare.  I've said it before and I'm sayin' it again!  Thank you so much for continuing to read (as I wrote that, Paolo made this really creepy/weird sigh behind me and it scared me) and for continuing to share the blog.  The views are going up up and away and I have you all to thank for that. So thank you!  Don't stop sharing!  EVER!

So what else happened in June?  I went to my first concert in the park, ate/drank at a gastropub, and had a few long conversations with a guy from the UK.  Realized Bernice has suffered her first serious scrape/scratch to mar her lovely panels, went to the first joint birthday party for my niece and nephew, and bought my very first camcorder.  Sparked conversation with my hunky downstairs neighbor, started biting my nails again, realized if things are too good to be true they probably are, and had my first house guest since moving in (Jill.)  Officially went back to blond (always going back,) started again and ALMOST finished editing my second book, and lastly realized the link to "26 Golden Things" on YouTube is officially active for anyone who wants to watch it.

I don't know why about that last part though... initially YouTube wouldn't post it for the public because of the amount of songs in it and the copyrights, but I guess they changed their tune?  Said video is posted below: watch it, share it, and hopefully like it because it took a long time to make and a lot of you are in it.  Ciao for now (c:

that "physical fitness" thing

This is going to be one of those "complete honesty" blogs because 1) I'm bored and 2) I have no shame.  Well... I do have SOME shame but that's best reserved for other times and they usually don't have anything to do with my blogs.  Mostly it's when I stand in the middle of my kitchen freely eating peanut butter off a spoon... with or without a marshmallow or two.

Wait who wrote that?

Incidentally, this blog is about my weight.  Fluctutation, abundance, etc.  One of my New Year's resolutions this year was to get in the best shape of my life and until now, I've sort of been reassuring myself that I already am.  Because I am, or at least in my adult life, but it can always get better and it used to be a lot worse.  Never bad enough that I needed professional help, never good enough that I felt  more than comfortable taking my shirt off in front of other people.

Growing up I was always a pretty skinny kid.  It was the late 80's and early 90's so this whole pandemic of "fatty" kids hadn't really started.  Or maybe it was just gearing up at that point, who cares?  I was pretty active, running and jumping and climbing stuff with my friends in Southern California and just living the life in whatever way I could at that point.  It's easy when you have about 10 months of the year where the weather is just fine and dandy without needing a jacket.  I was tan most of the year (with a wicked cool line from my socks on my ankles) and of course I had that California kid blond hair.  I don't think it was until we moved to Wisconisn in 1997 that my weight began to become an issue to me.

 1995 - 9 yrs

It was shortly after the picture above I started putting on a little weight.  I think it was the summer of 1996 that we went up to Northern California to visit my grandma Natalie.  We would go to Silver Lake up there in the Sierra Nevada's and if it was warm enough, swim around.  In the younger years my sister and I would make houses in the sand out of pieces of bark and little flowers and rocks that we found.  On this particular visit I remember taking my shirt off to get in the water.  Grandma suddenly exclaims "Ooh, looks like SOMEBODY is going to need a training bra soon!"  So the shirt went back on and I went for a walk.  That gets brought up every now and then; my mom still remembers it happening as well as I do.  You can laugh in hindsight but at the time it was the first indication I wasn't a skinny little kid anymore.  All in all it was pretty devastating.

1998 - 12 yrs

Part of it was that I just didn't understand why I looked different from my friends.  They were so skinny (re: small) and I was so big (re: still am) that I don't think I realized things were changing until they had.  And granted, no 12 year old should be made to feel that way and no one ever MADE me feel that way, but I certainly remember wearing a sleeveless white t-shirt with a black adidas logo on it during the start of 6th grade and feeling uncomfortable in it because of my chest.  My chest, obviously, because by then my little boobies were coming in OH so nicely.

I can also vividly recall towards the end of 6th grade beginning the process of sucking it in.  And not like "I'm gonna suck my gut in and hold my breath," but tightening my stomach and walking with a slight lean backward.  Ever wonder why I stand up so straight?  Shoulders back with a slight lean makes you look thinner, in case you didn't know.  I knew at 12 and I think that's kind of sad.  If you still didn't know that, well... you're welcome.

1999 - 13 yrs

Now, my mom ardently disagrees with me any time I say I was a fat ass.  Or chubby.  Or even a little large.  She never once told me I was big and that I always looked good to her, and I think that's the best thing a mother can do.  Wether she realized or not how bad of a self image I had she always suported me and made me feel comfortable.  I'll forever be thankful for that.  Looking back on things I wasn't as big as I thought I was, and it's funny because I used to always scoff at that line in the Suncreen Song that said "you are not as fat as you imagine."

Guess you need to be beyond it to appreciate it.

Luckily I went through a growth spurt before high school started and I kind of stretched/evened out.  Namely this occurred during swimming class for freshman gym, which was good because the majority of guys in there were fairly thin with the exception of a couple.  School wore on and eventually I started putting the pounds back on.  The biggest I got was during my senior year (pictured below.)  I was working two jobs at the time so a friend and I went to lunch every day of the week: twice to Buffalo Wild Wings, twice to Quiznos, and then we'd alternate McDonalds or Taco Bell between.  When I graduated high school I weighed 263 pounds, with a size 40 waist in my pants.

There aren't many pictures of me at that weight, especially ones where you can really tell.  Whether that is because of my own sabotage or not, I'll never tell.  But it was.  Whoops.

 March 2004 - 18 yrs

I was never really taunted as a fat kid because in all realness I reached 6'4" during my senior year and I think people were afraid to call me fat.  They called me gay and a fag all the time, but never fat.

#winning

I would often layer up to three t-shirts at a time to hold down my chest (I didn't have the sense to buy an undershirt a size too small to hold it down.)  When I walked through the halls I would hold both of my backpack straps over my chest so that it didn't look like I had boobs.  You can see above that I had shaved in a jaw-strap to... assist, I suppose, in making my face look better.  It's funny looking back on some of these pictures though and seeing how much my face has changed.  It's longer now and a little more defined; I always think I look puffy in these anyway.

With graduation came a change of the tide and I started working my first retail job at American Eagle.  The INSTANT paranoia I felt working there (suddenly in the "fashion" world, the gay culture world, and trying to be attractive) had me stop eating out all the time immediately.  I briefly dated a guy named Erick and I got out of the shower one day at his apartment and was looking in the mirror when I said "I think I've lost weight." So I got on the scale and I had dropped eight pounds!  Erick, slightly chubby, replied "sure you didn't gain eight pounds?" So then I lost more weight.

Being on my feet all day long and then running around all night long (dancing, etc.) had me shed the pounds so fast that I'm still surprised it happened so easily.  260 pounds became my scary weight.  Then 250 pounds became my scary weight, and for every 10 I dropped I decided I'd never go above that weight again.  The picture below was the end of June when my nephew Brayden was born and I was down about 20 pounds by then.  By the beginning of September I was down to a final weight of 208 pounds, and for those of you keeping track that meant I lost 55 pounds over the summer.  Yep.

 June 2004 - 18 yrs

I was mostly loose skin on a big frame, but even the picture above you can see how much just my neck alone had slimmed down.  In the years to follow I would start working at Express and actually gain some muscle but I never really had a massive weight loss again.  I put about 20 pounds back on after that year and managed to keep it pretty steady since, aside from the drastic losses that came with a couple breakups.  The picture below was after an "initial" break up, but I had started putting it back on by then.  AND I had a ball of muscle in my arm and THAT was exciting!

Eventually you start embracing the fact that you're a man-wall and there's no way around it.  Sometimes I wish I was a little smaller in general, maybe not as broad in the shoulders and hips, but then I remind myself that it's fine to look the way I do and I somehow still attract attention by looking this way.  Hahaha ::tosses hair::  You get used to people commenting on your height, your mass, blah blah blah.  You stop taking it as an insult and just chuckle and say "Yep, I'm a big guy."

And then you feel free to mentally add, go fuck yourself.

 August 2010 - 24 yrs

There's a big part of me that is afraid I'll die young.  Not like... premonition type fear where I think I'll pass by a micropig wearing rain booties on a sunny day and suddenly get hit by a truck.  But fear that my health is going to get in the way and I am going to not do so well on the upswing of things.  I'm 27 years old and fairly often I get really bad heartburn to the point where it makes me sick to my stomach.  Sometimes I walk to Target on my breaks at work and from both sucking my stomach in and walking really fast I'll be way too out of breath and sweaty by the time I make it back to the store (it is a 10 minute jaunt, always (unless the line is more than a person long.))  Sometimes my heart flutters when I'm sitting on the couch doing nothing and it makes me think I'm having a heart attack.  I get tired by the middle of the day if I wake up around 8, and that just shouldn't be happening.

I'm YOUNG for crying out loud!  I know you can't say that forever but for Christ's sake, I still am.  I'll stop saying it when I hit 35.  Or maybe 40.  I'm sure I'll keep pushing it back... point being that you're only as old as you feel and right now I feel pretty old.  Sometimes I hate being good at Photoshop because it just makes it too easy to make myself look better than I really do.  The picture below?  While I am always my slimmest at the end of summer, there was just a little bit of convenient shading applied to my ribs, chest and hips.  Just a little, mind you.  And then a handy-dandy filter over the photo takes care of the rest.  SO, here we go with the reveal.

September 2012 - 26 yrs

Look down to see me with no photoshop.  This is me as I am now (or was about two weeks ago when I STARTED this blog and didn't finish it) without sucking it in... much.  There is no filter on that, no shading, no touching up or blemish removal.  That is Sean Parker without any digital assistance.  I'm not in horrible shape, I know, but I'm not in great shape.  I want to be in great shape and that's why I am starting to run.  And when I get good enough at running long distances (already up to 2 miles every five days and one mile on the days between,) I'll know I'm dedicated enough to join a gym.

I have a problem with joining gyms and never actually going, so I figure if I get some best practices in place I'll stand a better chance of not just wasting my money.

 June 2013 - 27 yrs

I didn't write this for sympathy on anything because that's not what I'm about, it was just an update on a New Year's resolution I made and plan to stick to.  I did it last year, I can do it this year!  It's actually kind of exciting to start running and look at RunKeeper on my phone to realize how far I've gone.  And while I still think running is the most BORING thing in the world, it's healthy and in the end, it's only going to help me.  My ankle doesn't love it too much but that part is getting better too.

I'll leave you now, sorry this was so long.  It's mostly pictures though so that should make it easy... and laughable, hahaha.  I hope you enjoy that wet-haired "moonface" picture as much as I do.  Yikes!  I keep listening to the Sunscreen Song as I'm finishing this up so I thought I'd post the link to it.  It's worth a listen, certainly makes you think.  I never got the "message" in 1999 when it came out but I like to think I get the message now.  At least I can appreciate it a little more.

See you next week with the June update.  Toodles gang (c:

when you're wrong

I've made a lot of mistakes in my life.  I cheated on someone I loved, I dropped out of college, I lied to others about telling the truth and sometimes I've told the truth when I should have just lied.  I've broken hearts, I've had my heart broken; I've ended good friendships and I've started bad friendships.  I've darkened my eye-brows with a black pencil because I thought it looked good with my black hair, I got a wrist tattoo in black-ink when it should have been blue, and once I even stole incense from Sam Goody when I was 12 years old.  And of course there was the time I ignored the dire warning of "don't hold your breath for me, I'm a lost cause."

That'd be my stubbornness hard at work.

I've been made a fool of a lot in my life.  I've been the butt end of jokes that I wasn't really in on, I've been laughed at and not with.  I've been cheated on and had several people know it was happening save for me, and in that respect I've been lied to by dozens of people for the sake of sparing me from something ugly.  I've been proven wrong in a rather mean way in front of a classroom, I've been tripped in a packed department store for the sake of entertainment, and once I even got pulled into someone else's lie only to have them turn around and throw me under the bus when I had nothing to do with it in the first place.  And of course there was the time I was told "I think you're expecting this to be your next great love," as if that warrants punishment and not reward.

That'd be my affable nature hard at work.

I've tried to remain an optimistic person throughout my life.  There was a grey area for a couple months (or years) where it was too easy to be the pessimist, but eventually I came back around to see the good.  It's a conscious effort to see the good in people and things, did you know that?  I find myself more and more often having to remind people that you see what you want in the world, not the other way around.  Generally speaking if you go into it positive, you come right back out of it as positive.  It's like that quote, "happiness is not a destination but a form of travel."

That'd be my stubbornness hard at work once more.

Sometimes things just don't work out.  Sometimes things crash and spinout on the runway in a fiery wreck before they even have a chance to make it off the ground.  Sometimes you can blame it on the expectations of others, sometimes you can blame it on your own indecisiveness.  I suppose that ties back around into making mistakes though.  Every so often when something doesn't work out the way you originally intended, you can take it in your hand, examine the broken pieces, and then learn a lesson.

Learning from mistakes is a great thing and something I grow increasingly adept at.  I suppose telling someone to "just give me an answer either way" doesn't warrant anger or resentment but should instead come with gratitude when they DO give you an answer.  Even if it isn't the answer you wanted.  Even if that answer might be a mistake in and of itself.

And god damnit if I won't take this mistake and learn from it too.

The faceless entity I've been dating is gone now, and for some reason or another it didn't actually sink in for me until I typed those words out.  It's funny how that happens, isn't it?  The finality of it.  I can't bring myself to cry like I know I will; instead it is just building inside me until there's nothing left to do but to let it out.  I wrote about him in April in an update about a kiss, and no, I'm not slapping myself in the face for jinxing it because I don't feel I did.  I feel I allowed myself to start falling for someone I knew I wasn't supposed to fall for.  At 27 years old, it's of course never too late to learn that lesson.  Frankly I'm surprised it took this long.

I'll leave you now with a picture of us, his face blurred for his privacy of course.  But it was the night that my feelings changed for him and it was the night my life outside of him took a massive dive.  But looking at this picture lets me know sometimes things work out for the better, for however short amount of time.  And I'll hold on to that... and I'll hope that some day soon I can feel it again.  Goodnight gang.

the may update

May was a good month.

Bet you weren't expecting THAT to come out of my mouth!  By all accounts it was, however, and that is so refreshing that I just don't know what else to say about it.  It really wasn't going to be hard to top the months preceding but sometimes that's just the way it is.

Like Bruce Hornsby sang.

Typically I wait until the day of to post these monthly updates and for the most part it's always fine to do so, but then there are days like today where I am struggling to find something to write about.  Seeing as nothing too huge happened in my life this month (that I can freely share to the masses) I am going to start by telling you about something I am grateful for this month.  I go through old pins on my Pinterest account before I write blogs to see if anything jumps off the screen at me and tonight it was this one:

I'm so thankful that I know who I am.  What I am, too.  A good friend of mine is going through some hard times when it comes to fairly big life choices and it's left me with a lot of time to think about the same choices I made years ago.  I think it's most often a pretty easy thing to forget what you went through at certain points in time and when it has been years since, you treat it like it was the easiest thing in the world.  Of course I'm referring to "coming out" but this isn't going to drag on by any means.

I remember coming out officially the summer after senior year and how absolutely terrifying an experience it was.  There were a lot of friends that supported me, my siblings included, so telling my parents (the scariest part of it) meant I had complete back-up from a great support group.  The interesting part of the experience came when I started working at Express.  It was pretty soon after the "event" and I was proud of myself, but at the same time I didn't know how to let new people know.

You don't just walk up to co-workers you've never met before and say "Hey, I'm Sean.  Oh and I'm gay, LOLZ!!!(c;"

That stuck with me for several years.  How do you mention organically through conversation one of the things you consider to be a defining characteristic of yourself without sounding desperate for people to know?  I suppose at the time I really did think it was the only interesting thing about me.  Keep in mind this was 9 years ago and since then, the gay community has made pretty huge leaps and bounds into the lexicon of society.  So back then, while it was "mostly" ok, it wasn't as acceptable as it is today.  Even though it's not THAT acceptable today, it's also not THAT big of a deal anymore.

It was a few years later when I started achieving things and doing things that set me apart from other people that I realized being gay is just a small part of who I am.  If people know then they know, big deal!  I wish I'd known back then what I know now, but maybe coming out to every single person I met just made it easier on me in the long run.  The thing I hate is when sometimes you meet people who think being gay means you have to wear a big huge hat that says "FLAMER!" and walk around in a pride parade because you're guilty by association.

Let me get off my soapbox before I start rambling.

In the end I need to be patient, others need to suck it up, and we all need to smile.  I'm already smiling, of course, because that's what I do.  I have the wrinkles to prove it.  Moving on.

The only thing big in May I feel privileged to share is that I finally punched out a video blog.  It was cutting it close to the wire but I did it!  There were a bunch of reasons it took so long, mostly due to me not knowing what format I wanted to take the blog into and all that.  Finally I realized that who better to talk about than the other parts of my schizo personality, the multiples?  First they needed names!

I use the same three every year in my Christmas thank you cards.  One with glasses, one with aviators, and one that messes the picture up.  When creating other "multiple" pictures I end up using random quantities so I've officially decided to narrow it down to just the three of them.  Each represents a certain part of my personality so it seemed only appropriate to develop those parts into "full" personalities.

First you've got Lane, the leader.  He's also the mean one.  You'll always know it's him because he'll be wearing reading glasses.  He's a perfectionist, he doesn't fail at anything he does, and he points out the obvious flaws all. The.  Time.

Then there's Chip, self-promoter extraordinaire and the "popular" one.  Modeled after my best @markstyleme, Chip is loud and fun, over the top and always the life of the event.

And of course we have Calvin, the innocent one.  And admittedly not the sharpest tool in the shed.  Always sweet, believes in the positive, and loves to smile.

The format is still evolving but I felt to jump right into things I just needed to get the introductions out of the way and show the world a glimpse of what is coming.  So, here's the first vlog:

Otherwise it was a pretty quiet month.  A good month, but a quiet one.  

So what else happened in May?  I did a lot more kissin', emptied out my storage unit once-and-for-all (and got my full security deposit back today, natch), was told to turn down my music by that bitch in apartment #5 and then subsequently told her to stick it a few days later during a second altercation.  Powered my way through three seasons of three different tv shows, cut my hair off, realized why I don't EVER want electronic bill-pay ever again, had my first hotdog of the summer, and burned the FUCK out of myself by not paying attention to a wonderful thing called "solar radiation."  The peeling reminds me.

Aside from that, I'm spent.  Hope this wasn't a waste of time; I'm sure June will be ever more thrilling.  Ciao for now!

on being mean

I used to be really mean.  I get a certain pang in my chest as I write that, because I've been trying to think of something to post about all day long and that's what I settle on an hour before midnight.

The fact that I used to be really mean.

I guess in some ways I still am really mean.  Certainly I wasn't always this way... in fact I know I wasn't.  Growing up I was an incredibly sweet kid.  And that's not me boasting, it's just a fact.  I'm sure family members can attest to it.  My teachers used to say the nicest things about me, about how sweet of a boy I was with my blond hair and cute dimples.

When do things change for us in a way that is subtle to our noticing but so overarching that they eventually encompass who we are?  I can't pin it to anything in particular, and of course I can't pin it down, either, in terms of where it starts and stops in my life.  Sometimes... a lot of times... I'm out for myself and no one else.  Maybe that's how we all are to some extent or another, driving toward our own best interests.  There are worse things in the world.  At other times I'm just a vindictive person.  Last year a former "best" of mine told me I was the most passive aggressive person she had ever met.  Of course I scoffed at the remark and turned to those around me for validation that I wasn't, but now when it is nine months later I see that she was probably right.

Eventually you become so good at doing something that you no longer even realize when you are doing it.  Like someone who tells the same lie so many times that they themselves start believing it, I can't help but feel that way about my passive aggressiveness.  And in the same vein, being particularly loquacious with my words tends to be a downfall when texting people.  People that know me, at least.  Because anything other than a fully articulated response tends to reveal my emotions and set the ball rolling on the passive aggressive nature that tends to make others nervous.

When "K" means it's not okay, "alright" means think again, and "fine." means run and duck for cover, you need to sort your shit out because you're getting too good and that's not fair.

I came out to my parents in August of 2004, a few months after high school was over and a few years after I had started coming out to my friends.  I'm sure back in the early days of coming out I was still that innocent boy the teachers and parents liked so much (above.)  But as time wore on and the circumstances in my life had to continuously be hidden from the people I loved, it started to change me (below.)  You start changing behind the scenes, so to speak, continuing your life as what you were instead of gradually allowing the world to watch you develop into what you are.  Then you have this "coming out" moment and in my case, you're more than just coming out as gay.  You're coming out as a completely different person.

None of that is to say I'm ashamed of myself for anything or that the people around me wouldn't have helped me had I let them.  It is what it is.  In the months that followed I started working at Express and started developing my "new" personality.  Maybe I was always supposed to turn into the me that I am, maybe I wasn't.  It'd be interesting to see me now if I had chosen to go away to college and actually stick with school.  Who would I be now?  I'll never know, I just get to know about the downside of the "new" personality and that being the venom that came with it.

In order to remain socially relevant in the wonderful gay culture of 2006, one needed a certain amount of nastiness in the way they treated others.  Maybe it's still like that?  I don't know.  I tend to get the shit bugged out of me by "baby gays" more than anything else so my knowledge of the teen gay world is minimal, at best.  My calling card at the time became the fact that I picked out three things I didn't like about people.  All people.  As I've gotten older that has made me cringe more than I ever thought I would; every now and then it gets brought up by individuals who got a kick out of it, as if to say I still do it.  And I don't.  And it sucks that it is how I'm remembered.

I started to pride myself on being judgmental, and in a large way I'm still judgmental.  I judge everyone, for everything, all the damn time.  Sometimes I share my thoughts, sometimes I keep it silent.  This is the only nasty part of my personality that I will defend rigorously until the end of my life (unless it goes away (it won't.))  It's very easy for people to say they aren't judgmental but we ALL know that is a crock of poop.  Don't like that top?  Judging.  Don't like that person's hair?  Judging.  Didn't like that display at Pottery Barn, thought the gap in his teeth was annoying, chuckled at the acne that kid had, wondered why no one ever cleans the mirrors in those fitting rooms, got annoyed by the slow cashier at Wal-Mart?  Judging.

We do it all the time, we never stop.  I just say what everyone else is thinking.  I've since learned how to use a filter.  Just saying.

I don't know why I felt the need to write this tonight.  I don't know what made me feel compelled to share something about myself I don't really like sharing.  Sometimes I'm afraid everyone is in on the joke and I'm at the ass-end of it, always the last to find out.  Sometimes I feel like people put too much stock into me and my opinions when really I just speak loudly and carry a big stick.  It'd be nice to go back in time to meet myself at age 16, shake my hand, and tell myself to just relax and never lose sight of myself.

I'm sure there was a teacher or a movie that taught that same lesson at some point but I didn't listen.  What teenager ever listens anyway, they know everything already.  I guess I'm just glad I can see some of the errors of my ways, even if I don't know how to necessarily correct them.  For now I'm just me, day to day, and always looking forward.  And in the end, I'm not that much of a bitch anymore.

At least I've still got the dimples.

G'night gang (c:

roaring camp

Just a random little story (c:

I was unpacking some boxes today that I pulled out of storage (because it's high-time I stopped paying for that damn thing and just cleaned it out) and started coming across artwork from when I was in elementary school.  None of it was from the post-California era, but instead all came from my time at Crafton Elementary when we lived back in good 'ol Redlands.  There were a lot of pictures I drew of dinosaurs, some odd ones of me I had drawn in yellow marker depicting me at the beach with black nipples for contrast, and of course a wonderfully composed poem about death.

Such a happy child!

I was suddenly reminded of visiting a place called "Roaring Camp" that we went to a couple times while visiting my grandma Natalie in northern California.  I don't really remember how often we visited her... whether it was twice a year or just once a year; at that point I was a little too young to pay attention.  She lived in the mountains in a place called Pine Grove, and I'll always remember that her house was on Mt. Zion road.  Just one of those things you don't forget.

A couple of times we went to "Roaring Camp," which was this kind of tour/dinner thing for tourists in the area to do in a place that was otherwise pretty strapped for ideas that could involve kids.  Or so I still believe unless you like hiking.  And snakes.  You'd start at this building where everyone paid for tickets (I just googled the place, glad to find it still exists, and saw it costs $50 a head now.  Sheesh!)  Once you paid you had to climb into the backs of these huge pickup trucks that had rails on the sides to sit against while on the built-in benches.  Then you started the looooong (probably 15 minute (I know, just crazy!)) drive down theses steep canyon trails through the mountain.

At one point you'd stop by this waterfall and I think you could drink from it but I don't remember too sharp on that.  The visit in particular I am thinking of I was with my siblings, mom and grandma.  So you keep drivingdrivingdriving and eventually you're at the bottom of this huge ravine that has a campground of some sort set up and then some TP's and such.  There was also a great big outdoor kitchen where the powers-that-be would be making dinner.  I remember everyone got a drink token (it was a wooden nickel) and then you could either go on the tour of one of the caves where they used to mine for gold or you could go down to the river and PAN for gold.

The tour of the cave was boring, you couldn't go inside because it was roped off and at that age (probably 6 or 7) if you couldn't see the goods then it might as well not exist.

I mean really!

So we went down to the water and grabbed these big plastic/resin dishes and started panning for gold.  Who knows how long it took but I did find a piece of gold in that damn river, and the big old man that ran the joint came with a little glass tube and black cap, filled it with water, and dropped the gold inside for me to take home.  After that we were bored and dinner wouldn't be for a while longer so my brother started skipping stones across the water down by where everyone was still panning.

Somewhere out at Parker manor we've actually got this bit on video: Josh skipping rocks like a pro, little white-haired Sean trying to skip them as well, Megan standing off to the side playing with her hair and mom running the camera.  Sean flings a rock and it SLAMS into some guy panning for gold, and then proceeds to move to hide behind mom before the man figures out who did it.  I think the best part is that, ever so coolly, you hear mom say "Maybe you shouldn't do that anymore."

For dinner they made gigantic steaks that I remember being just... gigantic.  That's a good word.  There was of course corn and potatoes and I'm sure some kind of hardy vegetable that I didn't eat, but the BEST part was the fried bread.  Words cannot describe how good the friend bread was, and you could have as much as you wanted!  And what skinny little kid WOULDN'T go after that shit with reckless abandon?  Certainly not a pre-fatty like Seanny Parker!

Making the glorious bread.

After dinner they played music and maybe told stories but I can't remember that much.  Eventually it was time to file back into the trucks and make the excruciatingly long (...) trip back up the canyon roads .  On the way back my grandma Natalie was putting on lipstick in the dark but from the light of the amber-colored bulb, it looked almost black.  I told her she looked like a witch and never lived it down.

You might be asking yourself why I remember this.  Tonight when I was going through boxes I came across a small metal container that at one point had held a wallet I purchased from Khol's and for some God-knows-why reason, I kept it.  Before I could throw it out I realized there was something tinkling inside.  So of course I opened it (I've been going through EVERYTHING and tossing the useless shit out.)  There were a bunch of pieces of broken glass inside and the black plastic lid that at one point held water inside.  There was something else too.

It isn't always a bad thing to be the kind of person that keeps everything.  While some things are pointless to hold on to, there are others that you should keep forever.  I know I have big hands but that piece of gold is actually very tiny.  It's amazing how something so small and seemingly insignificant can spark such a memory from 20 years ago.

That's all I have to say about that.  Toodles gang (c: