Zionide

Movin' On Up

2004-02-26T00:34:00.000-07:00

I've moved! You should be re-directed shortly.

Please update any bookmarks/links/blogrolls to the new pad.

2004-02-20T23:02:00.000-07:00

Well, we're back from Vegas.

We had a great time, from what I can remember. I was tipsy for about 25% of the time, so it was obviously very successful.

I had my one year blogging anniversary yesterday. I actually set everything up at the end of January, 2003, but I didn't start posting regularly until mid-Februrary, so that's the day that counts. I decided to commemorate the event with some changes around here, but they, as is typical, will take several days to appear. In the meantime, I probably won't be posting much, if at all, while I get everything done. Don't worry, I'll be back. I hope it'll be worth it.

Earlier today I learned that two of my potential future career paths pretty much flew right out the window, never to return. Neither was directly TV-related, but both were media-related, and I'm pretty disappointed. I'd kind of been banking on one of the two to work out, and since both blew up on the same day, I'm back at square one. I'm slightly responsible for both not working out, but it was completely inadvertant.

Fortunately, being unemployed is not yet much of a financial problem; I'm still getting by just fine. Those two possibilities were much more about doing something I enjoyed and found fulfilling than they were about the money. I've always said if you do the job that makes you happy, the money will eventually follow. Note the emphasis on "eventually."

Overall, it was a shitty day, I guess. Good thing my cute boyfriend cheered me up, though he doesn't even know what happened yet. That's the best part, really. He cheered me up without even trying.

The only other good thing about today is I discovered that Jeff is back! It's been a month and I didn't even know it. Now somebody just needs to convince Aaron to come back too and I'll be a completely happy boy. I don't think it's gonna happen though. His domain even expired. :(

At least nobody else has stopped since I last whined about disappearing bloggers, and I'm hopeful about the relatively recent movement from Tim and over at Let Me Get This Straight.

Keep your fingers crossed . . .

2004-02-15T00:19:00.000-07:00

Tomorrow Patrick & I are off to Las Vegas with a couple friends for a few days away from everything. We'll probably be back at the end of the week. Vegas isn't exactly the best place to get away from it all, but this trip has been planned for a while and it's cheap and relatively nearby.

Vegas is such trashy, awful fun. We always have a damn good time, but I can only take three or four days of it before I've got to come home and cleanse myself, and I can usually only handle that once every year. Any more frequently and I'm afraid I'll begin to lose what little good taste I have, and start thinking that mirrored ceilings, red velvet walls, and naugahyde furniture are the epitome of high fashion.

This is my second trip in the last year. What do you think that means?

Patrick's gonna love the new ceiling in my bedroom.

2004-02-13T14:32:00.000-07:00

Apparently this kissing contest thing has struck a chord somewhere. I'm getting a hell of a lot of email about it, mostly positive but a couple like the Judas one. This one takes the cake though:

I suggest you give up writing entirely. You have no gift for it.

True or not, people can sure be mean.

2004-02-13T00:36:00.000-07:00

I've been thinking a lot about the Judas email and I finally responded. Maybe I'm just rationalizing my actions after the fact, but here it is:

[Name Removed],

Thanks for the email.

Just so you know, I did not make the decision hastily. I spoke to a lawyer, a good friend who works at the Human Rights Campaign, and several other friends, just to make sure this was the best option available.

Given the amount of media attention we've received because of this, I'm surprised you think I could have brought more visibility to discrimination in Utah by actually entering the contest.

Since I couldn't legally be prevented from entering the contest, there were only three possible outcomes to the situation with which I was presented when I tried to enter:

1) We enter, and lose, receiving no tickets and no media attention.
2) We enter, and win, receiving 2 tickets and a decent amount of media attention, especially as a same-sex couple and especially from the gay press.
3) We accept the "bribe," receive 6 tickets, and bring a substantial amount of attention to the situation because of the unequal treatment.

Obviously, attention from the first option is minor: the 40+ or so people at the mall see two men kissing in public with 11 other (heterosexual) couples.

The second option is great. However, attention drawn to the situation by us winning would be relatively short-lived, though likely positive. The main problem is that option 2 isn't a very likely outcome because of the nature of such contests. I didn't really think we'd win; the odds weren't good enough with 11 other couples. Plus, I wouldn't put it past the radio station to judge inaccurately and declare our kiss broken somehow, just so they didn't have a same-sex couple win.

Sure, I option 3 guaranteed me free tickets. I'd be stupid to deny that played a part in my decision. But that option is also the most likely to generate media coverage and attention. How could I have better drawn attention "to the inequities of Utah"? The radio station was allowing me to enter, though begrudgingly. If I'd entered, I would have become an equal participant with the rest. Only by accepting the bribe, and accepting the inequality, did I have a reason to contact the media . . . and thereby draw attention to the situation.

The only thing lost is not making a point to the STAR staff and the people watching, but I think the media attention was a more-than-worthwhile trade-off.

The bribe aspect is where the news story was, especially to a mainstream press. That's what got people talking. There would have been no story, no way to get media attention, if I'd just entered, winning the contest or not. Patrick & I are certainly not the first same-sex couple to enter a kissing contest - that in itself is just not newsworthy.

Even if we'd won, I doubt there would have been coverage in the Salt Lake Tribune or on X96. This was a win-win, for me and for media attention.

Regardless, thanks for your opinion.

Nick

2004-02-12T19:35:00.000-07:00

I got the following email today:

Subject: Jesus and Judas
Nick,

I must be honest here.

I hope you and your friends REALLY enjoy the concerts. But I personally feel like you're a Judas copping for 30 pieces of Silver.

You passed up a wonderful opportunity to draw attention to the inequities in Utah. Yeah, it would have caused a scene, but so did Rosa Parks in Montgomery, Alabama.

I know it takes courage, and it's easy for someone to sit back from a distance and criticize, but did you really consider ALL of the possible advantages your actions could have brought in the way of visibility and in shining a bright light on discrimination in Utah?

[Name Removed]

Ouch.

2004-02-11T16:26:00.000-07:00

Today's Salt Lake Tribune Rolly & Wells column includes this:

Bribe Keeps Gays Out of Kiss Contest
A kissing contest at Murray's Fashion Place Mall on Friday night could have become controversial had a local radio station not been savvy in the art of the bribe.
To the dismay of Star 102.7 (KQMB-FM), two men wanted to enter the "Lip-Lockin' for McLachlan" contest, in which couples competed in a kissing marathon to win front-row tickets to a Sarah McLachlan concert at the E Center.
The station could not legally prevent them from entering the contest, and mall officials had no objection to them competing. But Star's program director Mickey Nelson told the men the station is "family friendly," and if they agreed not to participate, Nelson would give them six tickets to the McLachlan show. The men accepted the offer.
The contest proceeded with 11 heterosexual couples. The winning couple locked lips without a break for an hour and three minutes, which apparently met Star's "family friendly" standards.

Dammit, people! You know how much I love being referred to as "gays."

Gay should only be an adjective, not a noun. Fuck Webster. It sounds stupid and condescending to say, "the gays." Can you imagine a newspaper printing a story about "the straights?"

Anyway, funny how the newspaper story is just a wee bit different than what really happened.

I never spoke to the program director (it's actually MIKEY Nelson, by the way), only Karli, the promotion director. Mikey Nelson wasn't even there when the "negotiation" took place. Plus, Karli was pretty clear at the time that the radio station had no problem - it was the mall, she said, which is the complete opposite of what the mall AND the radio station told the newspaper yesterday.

My guess is Fashion Place threatened to pull all their radio advertising from Star if the mall took any bad publicity for the incident, so rather than lose a major client's revenue, Star sucked it up and took all the blame. Regardless, somebody lied, either to me on Friday or to the newspaper yesterday.

Another local radio station, X96, nominated Star as a "Boner of the Day," for being so homophobic. Link to the nomination should be coming later tonight.

Oh, and since Star IS taking the blame, feel free to email Mikey Nelson about his station's so-called "family-friendly" stance.

2004-02-10T23:52:00.000-07:00

Patrick & I just got back from the Linkin Park Meteora concert, which also included Hoobastank, P.O.D., and Story of the Year.

I know it's not exactly romantic, but it was an early Valentine's gift from me to Patrick because I knew he'd love it (don't ask me why he does) and he knows I hate it and would never go if it weren't some special occassion. But it's not like I'd ever send him there alone anyway, even if we were the only certifiably gay boys in the entire arena tonight. Some of those emo-type teen boys aren't above experimenting, and I'm not about to let them do it with my boyfriend. Even if they're cute and I can watch.

Most of the crowd was young, white boys angry about . . . something. Or maybe nothing. Or maybe they were angry because they had nothing to be angry about. I don't know. I just don't get it. There were also young, lonely, white girls busy lusting after the young, angry, white boys. I do admit some of those young, angry, white boys were kinda cute, even if they were pretty much all jailbait. Maybe that's what draws Patrick . . .

Anyway, Linkin Park was actually very good - they know how to put on a show. The other three were pretty much just loud, though Hoobastank had decent moments. P.O.D. and Story of the Year in particular made me feel old and out-of-it. All these high school kids are rocking out, moshing, crowd surfing to P.O.D. and the only thing I'm thinking is, "Gee, that's a nice font choice on the backdrop."

The best thing I can say about Story of the Year is that their website tag is, ""Boobs are fucking epic," which I think is pretty funny, for some reason. That and in the online diary the lead singer announces that their guitar tech, Allan, is "one of the coolest homosexuals I've ever met" though, "He talks a lot, for a gay person."

If someone - anyone - can explain to me what that means, please do.

2004-02-07T03:38:00.000-07:00

I can't really sleep because of a little situation that occurred last night, so I thought I might as well use the time . . .

Patrick and I were planning to enter the Star 102.7 (KQMB-FM) "Lip-Lockin' for McLachlan" contest, where couples compete in a kissing marathon of sorts and the couple that lasts the longest without breaking the kiss wins front-row tickets to the Sarah McLachlan concert on July 19.

I was a little apprehensive about two guys entering a kissing contest in Utah - especially one sponsored by a station owned by the LDS (Mormon) Church (through the church's Bonneville International division), but I knew that we had a right to enter. I'm a long-time Sarah McLachlan fan so I really wanted those seats, plus I thought it'd be pretty damn cool if a same-sex couple won that contest.

The contest was held last night at Fashion Place Mall. When Patrick and I tried to register as contestants, I had the following exchange with the girl (Karli) who seemed to be in charge (whom I kind of know from when I was working at the TV station):

Karli: You guys are here to enter the contest?
Me: Yeah.

She looked over at one of the other promotion people and back at us.

Karli: Well . . . it's supposed to be male/female couples.
Me: Why?
Karli: Just . . . some contractual reasons, some legal reasons.
Me: There are no legal reasons - I know that.

She was quiet for a minute.

Karli: You're right. I can't keep you from entering the contest if you want to do it . . . but is there anything I can give you to keep you from wanting to enter?
Me: Like what?
Karli: How about I just give you a pair of tickets? To compensate?
Me: Front-row?
Karli: Well, no, but they're pretty good. It's where I'll be sitting.
Me: Honestly, I can get those seats on my own. It's front-row we're here for.
Karli: What else can I give you? Do you want tickets to other shows coming up?
Me: You know I can get those tickets too, if I want. It's front-row I can't get.
Karli: Yeah . . .
Me: Just explain to me why this is a problem.
Karli: Look, you know it's not a problem for me personally, and I can promise you the radio station has no problem at all with the idea either. It's just that when we negotiated using the mall for this, Fashion Place asked us to . . . kind of discourage this situation from taking place. It's just . . . they're worried because they've got kids and families walking by and they just don't want anyone offended.

I told her we'd think about it and be right back. Now, Patrick didn't really want to do this at all. It's just not his style. He's a shy guy, but he knew I really wanted tickets. Entering the contest with the 12 other couples didn't give us great odds of winning. Taking Karli up on her offer did at least guarantee us free tickets. But there was definitely a principle at stake here. I called friends to ask opinions (including a lawyer and a staff member at HRC in Washington, D.C.) and after chatting for a while we went back to the registration table.

Me: Well, number one, if we can't sit front-row, we want to sit with our friends. And number two, which is a much bigger issue, I'm not comfortable letting you discriminate like this, so honestly I'm not sure what I want to do.
Karli: I know, I absolutely sympathize. I'm trying to keep everybody happy here. If you really want to enter, go for it. I can't stop you from entering, and you know I personally don't really want to, but I have to do what the venue asked and try to get you to reconsider in exchange for some other compensation.
Me: How about you give me 6 tickets so we can sit with our friends who are getting ready to stand in line tomorrow morning to buy tickets of their own?
Karli: And then we're good?
Me: Then we're good.
Karli: Done.

She was right, the tickets aren't front-row, but they're decent. It was a personal win since I got six $55.00 tickets for free, but it was definitely a loss in other ways, and I still have mixed feelings about not standing up for my (our) right to enter. But, it's done and we're going to the concert.

I do want to emphasize that Karli seemed very nice and very upset she was in this position - she did everything she could to be of help. I doubt Star 102.7 was responsible for anything other than a very poor choice of venue.

I am sending a letter to Fashion Place Mall, Star 102.7, Sarah McLachlan, and Arista & Nettwerk Records (McLachlan's labels), and I'm telling as many people as I can that Fashion Place Mall is not as gay-friendly as it should be. They're to blame for the discrimination and truly "offensive" behavior.

On a more positive note, as we were getting ready to leave a random guy approached us.

Guy: You guys know what's going on here?
Me: Yeah . . .
Guy: Well, see that girl over there, with the dark hair and turquoise shirt?

I turned to see a cute girl, probably about 18, looking nonchalantly off into the distance, clearly avoiding looking our way.

Me: Yeah, I see her.
Guy: Want to be her partner for the contest?

Stunned silence from me. Finally:

Me: Whoa! That is so not what I expected to hear!
Guy: Well, she specifically asked me to see if YOU would do it.

At this point, our friend Darrell burst out laughing, and Patrick looked thoroughly amused.
I, on the other hand, was busy stuttering and turning ghostly pale.

Me: Uh . . . well . . . see, I'm here with HIM (grabbing Patrick's arm) and we just tried to enter and . . . it didn't really work out.
Guy: Oooooooh, I get it! Okay, cool.
Me: But . . . tell her thanks, and I'm flattered. It just probably wouldn't work.

All in all, I can't say I'm unsatisfied with the way things turned out last night. I got free tickets and a little physical validation (much-needed lately), but I can't help but feel guilty for backing down. I had a chance to really make a point here, and I kind of chickened out. Now it just feels like I was selfish and wanted to get those tickets, rather than actually do something that, in some small way, could have made a difference. All I can see in my head is two guys sucking face among all these hetero couples and really kicking some ass.

Ok, so I admit it's really not a bad image to be stuck with, but still . . .

2004-02-06T23:50:00.000-07:00

Let's play catch-up!

So, I resigned on Tuesday, January 6 and on Thursday of that week our station manager, whom I've NEVER gotten along with, scheduled an exit interview for one week later, on Thursday, January 15. Like I said before, my last day was agreed to be Tuesday the 20th.

I was surprised he wanted that exit interview and that he had any concern about what I might have to say, but I was happy to have the opportunity to explain why I thought things just weren't moving in the right direction.

I spent some time that first week preparing files, moving personal stuff home, and tying up some loose ends. I didn't do everything that week though because I had an entire week ahead to do the really big, important stuff.

But when I went to work on Tuesday, January 13, nasty station manager called me into his office after lunch, handed me a check for the rest of January and told me that day would be my last day. No exit interview, no finishing up in-progress projects, nothing.

Why the 180° change? I have no idea. No explanation, logic, or reasoning given. But it was entirely typical of the station, and a major reason why I was ready to move on. Make no mistake: Clear Channel Broadcasting is out to monopolize and they're bad, bad, bad. I still have the memos instructing me on what to say to the FCC, legislators, and the general public in regard to Clear Channel's bad name, and none of it is honest.

It was a big shock to be shuffled out of there with no warning, and I had kind of a hard time adjusting. I've never really worked anywhere else; I graduated from high school and then started working there at the station. I just didn't know my adult life any other way, and even my identity as an adult was somewhat tied into my position and role there. So, the transition took some time, especially since I never got to mentally prepare for an exit - I was saving that for the final scheduled week.

I think I'm over the whole thing by now, but I did need a little time away from everything that had become routine - including blogging - just to sit and think, alone, about what I want to happen next in my life. I had a lot of great, introspective time, and Patrick and I have been able to spend a lot of really nice quality time together, which has been amazing. I don't know what I would have done without him.

I don't have any answers yet, but I don't expect them anytime soon. I'm freelancing a bit on projects here and there, but I'm financially OK for a while, so I'm just planning on having some fun without worrying about any definite plans or goals. I think I just need to float for a bit, let life wash over me, and see what comes up in the next few months.

2004-01-28T23:58:00.000-07:00

Yes, I'm still here.

Just very, very behind.

You'd think being unemployed would mean more free time for things like blogging.

That's what you get for thinking. :)

We'll talk soon.

I promise.

2004-01-12T20:06:00.000-07:00

Friday's post now includes an "anonymous" comment consisting only of a link to a Salt Lake Tribune article titled Bloggers Risk Jobs Discussing Work Online.

Gee, I wonder where that came from.

2004-01-09T23:03:00.000-07:00

Alright, alright, here's yesterday's beauty as it was meant to be.

See if you know the answers now. It's really not that tough.

Maybe I should have offered a more compelling prize.

2004-01-08T23:58:00.000-07:00

Like he's in my head . . .

Another shadow on the river floor,
Another holy man who wanted more.
Gone, gone - another gone . . .

The river knew the song that drew the man;
He knew the river knew the song, not him.
Gone, gone - another gone . . .

How many words that never found a home?
How many needles with their heart of gold
Run, run - then all is done.

And all our whisper is what might have been -
Another river song upon the wind.
Gone, gone - another gone . . .

Identify the lyricist, musician, AND subject of the above beauty and receive my endless admiration and respect.

Unless you just Googled for it. Then you only get props for efficient internet use.

2004-01-06T12:32:00.000-07:00

So I gave two weeks notice at work today. My last day will be January 20.

Bye, bye TV land.

No, I don't have another job.

No, I'm not going back to school.

I'm just not doing this anymore.

I know it sounds totally stupid to quit without something else lined up, but it still feels like the right thing to do, despite the terror I am now feeling.

Anxiety attack, here I come . . .

Note: You Googlers looking for naked photos of gay Nate Berkus, click here.

2003-12-30T23:47:00.000-07:00

I post about bloggers disappearing last week, and then I'm gone for a week.

Nice how that works, huh? :)

I have a variety of excuses, some more to blame than others, but all are at least somewhat relevant. It's a busy time of year, and . . . well, let's just say that I think I'm at a crossroads in more than one area of my life. I'm not sleeping well, I'm distracted at work, and lately I've been just a little bit bitchy.

Ok, more than a little bit. Patrick will attest to this. But he, as always, has been a champ in dealing with me.

Things have been a little crazy in my head, but not necessarily in a bad way. I've just been introspective and trying to figure out what the hell I'm doing. As much as I hate the concept (and the term), I'm tempted to call it a quarter-life crisis.

I realize that my posts in the last few weeks (months, even) have been less about my life and thoughts and more about . . . absolutely nothing. I'm not absolutely certain why it's happening, though I have some ideas, and I'm going to make a conscious effort to remedy it.

Soon.

In the meantime, I've got some major life decisions to make.

Wish me luck . . .

2003-12-23T23:33:00.000-07:00

Bloggers are disappearing left and right, and it makes me sad.

First Tim stopped posting. Then Jamison was gone. At about the same time Jeff disappeared (and I don't even know why because I was in New York and computer-less when it happened). A few weeks ago Chris stopped. And now Aaron (which I'm particularly crushed about, btw).

These are just the ones off the top of my head. I know there are several other notables no longer posting regularly.

I absolutely understand why; don't think otherwise. I just hope ya'll decide to come back again someday, or at least let us know of major life developments . . . somehow. I got so used to knowing what was going on, I'm having withdrawal now. I'm wondering what's going on in everyone's lives.

When I first looked at my blogroll and saw there were more than a couple dead links, I was worried that blogging was on its way out. A cultural phenomenon I had just barely caught as it came to an end. But then I realized that it may be more of a natural evolution. Blogging obviously serves some sort of purpose in all our lives, varied as those purposes must be, but that need isn't necessarily a permanent facet of our lives. We survived for years without it, so it's certianly not an essential thing. What happens when the need no longer has to be fulfilled, or we find something else with which to satisfy the urge?

It's simple: we stop.

Sad, but true.

Thank god there's a newer generation of gay boy bloggers popping up, talented guys who have four months or less archived (Ed, Thomas, Adam, Ed, Mark) and a very few older newbies (how's that for oxymoron?), like me, with six months to a year of blogging behind them (Bob, David).

Update: Bob kindly informs me that Thomas is not a newbie at all; he just has a new home. My bad!

As much as I love the new guys (and I do!), I will always be particularly fond of the now-gone folks who inspired me to start, and especially those "blog parents" who are still chugging along (most importantly Jeff, Deb, Faustus and Bart).

Keep it up guys; we need to hear from you.

Or at least I do.

2003-12-19T15:31:00.000-07:00

Spotted in the drug section of the trashy local discount store, directly above the condom rack:

50% off - Makes A Great Holiday Gift!

I couldn't agree more.

Especially when it's merely the wrapping on your gift.

2003-12-18T17:02:00.000-07:00

Today, Ed of Inert One reviewed his favorite blogs and somehow the following appeared on the list:

Zionide is also a newfound treat for me. He writes from Salt Lake City and I am not sure how he does it, but he makes the Mormon capital, (land o’ Zion) seem cool. That in itself is reason enough to read his blog. Of course, he has a crush on Nate Berkus, even if he weren’t interesting to read, for that alone he would get my vote. He obviously has exceptional taste and it shows.

Thanks, Ed. I'm so honored I don't even know what to say.

Ok, that's a lie. I always have something to say.

Specifically: Don't be fooled. Salt Lake City is SO not cool (but it's truly not as bad as its reputation).

But I do have exceptionally good taste. :)

Which makes me wonder: Why do I live here?

2003-12-16T21:50:00.000-07:00

Why can't the U.S. Bravo be a little more like its neighbor to the north? (Or is it neighbour?)

Our reality TV is NEVER this good!

2003-12-15T15:46:00.000-07:00

The American Family Association is sponsoring a "Marriage Poll" asking people to vote for or against "homosexual marriage" or civil unions. The results will supposedly be reported to Congress.

Right now, over 95% of those responding are "Against so-called homosexual marriage."

In my continuing efforts to use the resources of the right wing against itself, I encourage you all to go vote and see if we can't tip the scales back the way they should be.

Tell all your friends, too . . .

2003-12-12T14:51:00.000-07:00

The local Catholic high school, which is normally a uniform-only school, has an annual Sub-for-Santa program to provide holiday gifts for less fortunate families in the area. Today, if students each bring $2 for the drive they are allowed to wear "street" clothes, including blue jeans.

Patrick informs me that this drive is called Jeans for Jesus.

Need I say more?

2003-12-11T14:03:00.000-07:00

Those crazy Brits . . .

Anyone working in the public health field will find this hysterically funny.

The rest of ya'll might think it's kinda gross.

Watch it anyway.

2003-12-07T08:12:00.000-07:00

It's Angels in America tonight on HBO.

I'm so excited to see the movie again. I've watched the interviews and trailer on HBO.com every day this week.

Can you believe it? Six hours total and I just want to do it again.

Just make sure you watch it. It's worth the time investment and you'll be glad you did.

2003-12-06T20:10:00.000-07:00

Last night I broke form and went out with the straight boys again. Three straight guys and me.
Woo-hoo!

I'm not sure if I mean that sarcastically or not.

Last time we went out I ended up taking them to a gay bar near the end of the night. They were all so drunk they ended up dancing with me out on the floor. And I'm not talking innocent-type dancing. This was some serious kinda dancing.

That full story, by the way, is here.

But last night we went out again, this time to a notoriously slutty straight club. I was technically the designated driver, but by the end of the night we'd decided to ditch the car and stick with cabs. This was partly because I wanted to drink, and partly because I didn't want to drive the evening's designated vehicle: a 1984 champagne pink Cadillac. A real land yacht. I swear to God it was, like, 43 feet long.

One of the more memorable parts of the evening came when I headed to the second floor men's room. Now, this particular slutty straight club used to be the most popular slutty gay club in Salt Lake. So, it was built with only one women's restroom, which is now always packed since there are so many more girls in attendance than was originally intended.

I walked into the men's room, which is essentially 20 urinals on all three walls, to see three girls among all the guys. They had their skirts hiked up past their hips and were each straddling a urinal backwards, taking care of business. In the 30 seconds it took for me to focus enough to realize what was going on, I saw more vagina than I've seen in the rest of my entire life.

One girl was talking on her cell phone, "Yeah, I'm just here in the boys room going pee. No, really, I am! At a urinal! Yeah, I swear. No, dude, seriously. Hold on."

She handed me her phone and said, "Tell 'em where I am."

Drunkenly, I replied into the phone, "She's pissing in a urinal with all the boys."

She grabbed the phone back and said, "See?! Ok, I'm done, gotta go, bye!" She slid her skirt down and tramped out, laughing about how far they would go to avoid a bathroom line.

The other interesting part of the night was during the cab ride home. One of the three straight guys has always seemed a little on the bi side, despite girlfriend, so I decided in my drunkenness to see what I could discover while he was also very, very drunk.

"Hey, Dave, ever kissed a boy?"
"Nope."
"Wanna kiss a boy?"
"No . . . not yet."
Stunned silence from me. Then, "Well, when then? What's it gonna take?"
"More to drink, I guess."

I dropped it after that, too drunk to process the information properly.

Going out with the three "straight" boys might be more interesting than I thought . . .

2003-12-05T12:45:00.000-07:00

I got this in an email this morning with no original source. If you know anything, please leave a comment so I can give proper credit!

Traditional Marriage in America Comes to an End

Thousands of formerly ardent Christians filed for divorce this morning, as others raped their children and household pets after the Massachusetts Supreme Judicial Court ruled that gay people are citizens too.

"My marriage is over," said one upset Christian as he dry-humped the fender of a parked car. "My marriage isn't worth anything," he insisted. "I feel no connection to my wife and children and I just want to do whatever I please, when it pleases me to do it." With that he turned to a passing elderly woman and shouted for her to reveal her "tits."

This same scene is being repeated over & over again, on every street in every city and town in America. Once devoted parents and spouses, America's Christians are denouncing any bonds between themselves and their families as they embark on a binge of sex, drugs and socialism.

"We warned you that this would happen," insisted one anti-human rights activist. "We told you that gay citizens enjoying equal rights would destroy marriage, the family and even Christianity itself. And now it's happened," he said. "You should have listened to us. If you had, I wouldn't have had to have sex with three different strange men in a public restroom this morning."

The fallout from today's decision is enormous and far reaching. So big is the change that swept America this morning that it may be days before a true accounting of the damage is complete. As things stand, one uncomfirmed report has Bob Jones Jr., of Bob Jones University, defecating on his bible upon hearing the news, while other witnesses have come forward to report that they had seen Pat Robertson, former leader of the Christian Coalition and the host of the 700 Club, enjoying sex with a chair.

Congress was quick to pass an appropriations bill funding the thousands of new orphanages needed to care for the abandoned children. It is hoped that this is only a temporary measure and that Christians will yet accept the financial reponsibility for their families, even if they no longer love them and insist on masturbating in public.

2003-12-04T23:32:00.000-07:00

This is about as politically incorrect as possible.

But it's hilarious and I love it.

It's a BK Holiday!

2003-12-01T20:29:00.000-07:00

Today's the day.

Before working in TV, I spent a few years as an HIV educator for the American Red Cross. I still volunteer when I can, teaching prevention skills, basic education, and safer sex skills to youth groups. Right now I'm also on the Board of Trustees for the Utah AIDS Foundation.

Complications from AIDS is now the leading cause of death worldwide. In some African nations, over 65% of the population is HIV positive. In one hour, 60 children around the world die from AIDS-related infections.

You wouldn't believe what the kids I teach think about HIV before I begin. Then again, you might believe some of these things, too.

Given the statistics above, HIV is only in Africa now, right? Here in the United States, things are getting better.

Wrong.

United States infection rates are again on the rise, after steadily declining throughout the '90s thanks to HIV education. Hispanic and African-American men are still two of the fastest growing groups to test positive. Positive results in people under 24, of both genders and all races and sexual orientations, have also dramatically increased.

Young gay men are the single most at-risk demographic group. And guess what? Hepatitis B and syphilis are on the rise among gay men, too. The numbers are just plain scary.

You thought syphilis was taken care of, didn't you? That awful Tuskegee experiment and all.

Think again.

HIV prevention education isn't working anymore. The fear-based education of the '90s just isn't doing the job like it used to. People of my generation, born in or after 1980, don't know a world without HIV. And it's more difficult to be afraid of something you've always known.

Apathy is also a major problem. It's hard to remember that AIDS is deadly, since so many people live long, healthy lives after they've tested positive.

But living with HIV isn't easy. It's expensive and exhausting, and it's still a death sentence.

Some HIV-positive people don't like it when I say that.

That doesn't make it any less true.

In HIV prevention/education work, we're faced with an interesting dichotomy, especially since the creation of the 20-minute HIV test. We spend half our time demonizing HIV, telling everyone we teach, "Don't test positive. Practice safer sex. Don't test positive. Be careful. Don't test positive," and the other half of our time telling new-positives, "Oh, you'll be fine. There are so many treatment options available now!"

It's can be a tough reconciliation to make at the end of every day.

That doesn't make it any less true, either, at least until we get some more money to do some more research.

Most young gay men I know are reasonably aware of HIV and the risks, and they're a little concerned for themselves. But that isn't enough to keep them from late night online hookups (safer sex or not), or from going home with the guy they just met at the bar. And it doesn't make them talk to their long-term partner, their regular fuck buddy, or the friend they sometimes sleep with, about sexual history, risk negotiation, open communication, or safer sex.

Drug use, especially meth, is another huge factor in the risk-behavior decision-making process. And that includes alcohol, too. Most of us have been guilty of that one.

Oh, the things we say:
"I'm sure he's safe - we've been dating for months and I haven't noticed a thing."
"Why do I need to ask him all those questions? It'll make him angry that I don't trust him!"
"High-risk behaviors? HIM?! He won't even rim me!"
"I can't ask him to get tested! He'll think I think he's a slut!"
"I'm sure we're monogamous, we just haven't said it out loud."

Say something like that to me and get ready for a verbal bitch-slap.

If you're an average-speed reader, in the time it took you to read this, someone under the age of 24 in the United States was just infected with HIV. After all, only a fraction of HIV-positive people even know they are infected.

I'm a realist. I don't expect anyone to be celibate, or even regularly practice safer sex. Sometimes life just doesn't work that way. But there's a lot you can do.

Wake up, boys. This is STILL your problem, and you ARE at risk.

Get tested, and talk to your partner(s) about ways to reduce risk.

2003-11-20T16:18:00.000-07:00

Yes, the vicious rumors are true - today is indeed my birthday.

As far as I'm concerned, birthdays after 21 just aren't fun.

You can, however, cheer me up with gifts.

Girls, I mean no disrespect, but cash is preferred.

Boys, naked photos of yourselves will be just fine.

zionide(at)hotmail(dot)com

2003-11-19T16:59:00.000-07:00

In my junior year of high school, I wrote an essay about Hawthorne's The Scarlet Letter that would eventually become a substantial portion of our final grade. While handing out the assignment, my teacher, who I must admit was quite competent, announced that she would be taking one point off our final score for every misspelled word, incorrect punctuation mark, improper grammar usage, and so on.

This did not worry me at all, as I am generally a proof-reading Nazi and incredibly neurotic, even obsessive-compulsive, about such things. I spent several hours on this essay and turned it in a week later, expecting to solidify my 'A' grade for the class.

Two days later it was returned with red marks all over and a big C+. The note at the beginning said, "Excellent analysis, very well-written, a marvelous paper as a whole . . . but THE MISSPELLINGS!"

I was aghast! What in the world was she talking about?

Given the subject of the book, I had used the word "judgment" quite frequently. Only I had used "judgement," with the 'e' in it. Every single "judgement" had been crossed in red ink, and my beautiful paper had been reduced to a C+.

This would not do. After class, I went to talk to her about it.

"Since it's all the same word, can't this just be ONE point off?" I pleaded.
"That doesn't make the others correct though, does it?" she said.

I pulled out the Merriam-Webster I always had with me.
"Look, judgement with the 'e' is acceptable," I said, pointing to the page.
"Yes, but it's secondary to the preferred no-'e' form," she said, raising an eyebrow. "In my class we use the preferred forms."

I was lost. Judgment-without-an-'e' just looked wrong! All naked. The word needed the 'e' to look complete and whole.

"But . . . but," I stammered, unsure of how to explain myself.
Finally, I practically announced, "But I prefer it with an E!"
"Oh you prefer it, do you?" she said, thoroughly amused. "Too bad Mr. Webster and most of America don't agree with you."

I caved. There was nothing left to say. I accepted my C+ with defeat.

This tortured memory haunted me for years, and I regularly fought my natural, yet inappropriate, tendency to spell judgment with the 'e' in its proper place.

Until now.

Today I stumbled across this marvelous entry at Judgment Call and rejoiced that I was not alone.

Welcome back, 'e'. . .

2003-11-18T22:37:00.000-07:00

I am lustfully obligated to make note that today is Duncan Sheik's 34th birthday. If I don't mention it, I will never forgive myself.

I'm not going to say too much, because if I start talking about Duncan, I'll never stop. Patrick and my friends will attest to this.

Suffice to say that if you thought Nate Berkus was my main fantasy man (given his prominence on these pages), you are seriously wrong.

I am so obsessed with Duncan Sheik, I haven't even bothered to try to convey it with mere written words. Accurate portrayal of my feelings about him requires strong vocal inflection, various hand gestures, fits of tears, and often a day of rest following the explanation.

He's brilliant (hello Brown University semiotics degree!), a musical genius (and I don't throw that word around lightly), and incredibly attractive, too.

If you don't know who he is, or know him only from his one huge hit Barely Breathing, go buy his "exquisite" self-titled debut, the "profound . . . and hauntingly moody" sophomore effort Humming, the "fragile and poetic" all-acoustic Phantom Moon, or the "minor masterpiece" and most recent release, Daylight.

Or at least listen to some audio clips and look at how hot he is!

People magazine recently called him "John Mayer's older, wiser brother," which I found a bit offensive because Duncan is infinitely more talented, yet forever under-appreciated. You music junkies will appreciate his obvious reverence for Nick Drake, to whom Duncan is frequently compared.

Can you believe that this is me holding back? :)

I'm an out-of-control music lover, but for some reason I never really mention it here. Just seems too personal, too "inside-my-head," to share my thoughts on music. But the truth is, I have hundreds and hundreds of CDs/vinyl, across a variety of genres, and spend way too much money every week buying even more music.

And I can talk about it for hours. Obviously.

Anyway, I'm not ashamed of my Duncan obsession; in fact, I'm proud. I even think Duncan knows about it. I've met him five times - twice in the same day. That's why I think he knows. Because on the second time that one day he said, "Oh, hi again. Are you stalking me?"

Of course I said no. I didn't want to scare the boy!

Then I offered to have his babies.

2003-11-15T19:13:00.000-07:00

I'm thoroughly mystified by the dozens of bloggers out there raving about the iPod. I'm beginning to write it off as the tendency we humans have to mindlessly follow each other like livestock. Call it the "sheep factor."

Yes, the iPod's very pretty (though I've never been fond of white on any accessory), and yes, it's tiny. But that's it. Those are the only two things I can come up with that set the Apple apart from several other available options, most notably Creative's Zen Xtra.

Subjective preferences (looks, user interface) aside, let's compare for a moment the most obvious differences between the two (all specs taken from CNET):

Storage capacity (highest model):
iPod: 40GB
Zen Xtra: 60GB
Winner: Zen

Battery life:
iPod: 8 hours (reported); actual: ~6.5 hours (from iPod Lounge)
Zen Xtra: 14 hours (reported); actual: ~10 hours (from Nomadness Forums)
(And, since we all know that lithium ion batteries don't last forever, the Zen's is even replaceable)
Winner: Zen

Size:
iPod: 4.1" by 2.4" by .73" and 6.2 oz
Zen Xtra: 4.4" by 3" by .9" and 7.2 oz
Winner: iPod

File types supported:
iPod: MP3
Zen Xtra: MP3, WMA, WAV
Winner: Zen

Transfer interface:
iPod: FireWire
Zen Xtra: USB 2.0
Winner: iPod

Accessories available:
iPod: Almost anything you can think of
Zen Xtra: Not even a remote (though there is a non-"Xtra" 60GB Zen available with a remote AND recording capability for the same price)
Winner: iPod

Cost:
iPod: $499
Zen Xtra: $399
Winner: Zen

Now, a mention about the more personality-driven differences:
I know I'm against popular opinion here, but I really prefer the Zen Xtra's aluminum shell to iPod's white one, which I mentioned above. As for user interface, I concede that as Apple is known for ease-of-use, the iPod is probably user-friendly for just about anyone. But I also believe that once you learn and get used to an interface it's pretty damn easy to work with it. But these are both so subjective that I'm not even considering them in this not-so-scientific comparison. I also threw out "sound quality" since both are superb.

Of course, when it comes down to it, Apple wins where it counts:
Marketing. The iPod is everywhere, from Hollywood product placement to Oprah's list of favorite things. Call it "iPod envy," the sheep factor, or whatever else you want. The point is, everybody has, or wants, an iPod.

But . . . what's so great about being like everybody else?

Bottom line, how can you justify paying more money for less disk space and battery life, just to save a single ounce and a total of 1.07 inches? That and the option for a remote, among other "non-essential" perks like games. (Who the hell wastes an MP3 player's battery to play games? Probably the same people who use cell phones to play games . . . .)

As far as I'm concerned, it's a no-brainer. The hard numbers of more GB for your $$$ (plus battery life and file-type flexibility) are too obvious to ignore. Most of iPod's strong points are related more to image than performance, while Xtra's good stuff is less about looks and more about music . . . kinda like me. :)

2003-11-13T15:26:00.000-07:00

This morning a female coworker and I had a meeting with the local chapter of one of the country's largest non-profit organizations. They wanted to ask the station to sponsor several of their events in 2004.

We walked into the conference room and introduced ourselves (names only) to the chapter's Executive Director. We were both carrying legal pads and pens (our usual meeting armor) but while the fat, old, white man said, "Very nice to meet you," to me, he turned to my coworker and said, "Oh, are you taking notes?"

"No," she said icily, "I'm determining the status of our relationship." She turned to me and raised her eyebrows. "Nick is taking notes."

I quickly smiled and nodded at the chauvinist. The satisfaction of being present for this interaction was enough for me to go along with the plan.

To no one's surprise, we are not sponsoring any events.

2003-11-12T23:56:00.000-07:00

Thanks to the rumors about a possible Straight Eye for the Queer Guy, there's another round of "Queer Eye for the Straight Guy is stereotypical-and-therefore-offensive" complaints floating around, so I thought it important to point out that television shows, particularly so-called "reality" TV, don't portray ANY demographic group realistically - or all that positively, either.

Can you imagine if most straight people were like those on Joe Millionaire or The Bachelor? And are all folks over the age of 50 as curmudgeonly as those we seen on the screen?

I think most reasonably intelligent people, within all societal definitions, recognize that no one is accurately represented in the entertainment media, or sometimes even the news media. That's just how it is. If people meet me for the first time and assume I'm able to arrange their living room just because I'm gay, then they're idiots and I don't need to be associated with them anyway.

Of course, like most reality TV, Queer Eye lost its novelty very quickly. I stopped watching months ago.

But if I do watch, I don't bitch and moan about my misrepresentation. I laugh at "myself" and at my friends, both gay and straight.

It could be worse, you know. We could be Asian-American, Pacific Islander, lesbian, Native American, or even Hispanic or African-American (to a slightly lesser degree) and therefore invisible in the eyes of television executives.

I'm just damn grateful there are gay men on TV at all, skewed as the final product may be.

2003-11-11T11:15:00.000-07:00

If you're looking for info on Nate Berkus after his appearance on Oprah today, click here.

But wait - it gets better! Nate's not alone on Oprah today. He's with Trading Spaces' hottie Ty Pennington.

It's a wet dream come true!

I saw a promo for Oprah After the Show (on Oxygen) where Oprah says to Ty, "Nate's working on a book," and Ty says to Nate, "You need a shower photo in your book, too!"

Chaos ensues in the studio, with women screaming, clapping, and jumping up and down.

I'm assuming Ty had a shower photo in his book. (Memo to self: Buy Ty's book.)

In response to Ty's comment, Nate says, "Nah, I'm just going to be totally naked in my book."

Chaos ensues at my house, with women screaming, clapping, and jumping up and down.

It would have been embarassing if I hadn't been alone.

2003-11-09T20:04:00.000-07:00

Yesterday Patrick and I spent six hours watching the complete HBO production of Tony Kushner's Pulitzer-prize (1993) and double-Tony-winning Angels in America.

So what do I think? The hype is true. The movie is as good as, or even better than, the trailer suggests.

We were allowed a one-hour lunch after the third hour (between "Millenium Approaches" and "Perestroika," if you know the play), but other than that, it was a whole lot of sitting on our asses. And somehow, I was fine with that. I usually have a hard time with anything over two hours, but as time passes since we left the theater last night, I just want to go watch it again. Six hours! It seemed like two.

Salt Lake City is the only city in the country that received a premier of all six hours, rather than just the first half. At the after-show reception, I talked to a very nice woman from HBO, Director of something something Corporate something, who said the Salt Lake City Film Center had talked them into it because of the Mormon connection, plus in 1995 the Salt Lake Acting Company was one of the first groups in the country to produce Angels because Kushner had perfected the story in 1990 here at the Sundance Theatre Lab.

As you probably know, the play is excellent, the writing layered yet accessible, the characters complicted and interesting. Mike Nichols' direction more than does the story justice, and the cinematograpy throughout New York City still lingers in my mind. The opening credits alone made my eyes glaze over in awe.

And yet it was the acting that really sticks with me today. I can't think about anything else. I knew Al Pacino, Emma Thompson, and especially Meryl Streep were all going to be dynamite, as usual, but the entire ensemble cast was stunning. Those three acting veterans gave performances among the best in their careers, and Mary-Louise Parker, Patrick Wilson, Justin Kirk, Ben Shenkman, and Jeffrey Wright were defintiely as good as the vets - and that's saying a lot.

My words will never do it justice, so I'm just going to say, at the risk of sounding like a corporate whore shilling for HBO:

Whatever you're doing on the evening of Sunday, December 7, watch the first part of Angels in America.

2003-11-07T14:32:00.000-07:00

Today's Salt Lake Tribune includes the following public forum letter that I think is particularly well-written.

So, I'm sharing:

Values Not Threatened

Frequently, people express resentment about gays "pushing their agenda" because they seek the right to form families that enjoy the legal and social legitimacy of marriage. I suppose African-Americans were pushing their agenda during the Civil Rights movement. And women, to the dismay of many, continue to push their agenda in seeking equal rights and opportunity.

The righteous and the afraid presented the same argument then as we hear today: It is against God and it will destroy the values we hold dear. In spite of this hysteria, we survived these changes and will weather and survive many more as we continue to evolve as human beings.

As a person with many gay and lesbian friends, I consistently find that we have more in common than not. We have children and mates and jobs and extended families. Their sexuality is none of my business, and vice versa. They deserve every right that I am afforded, including that of marriage.

If, as a society, we are able to rise above the myth of "lost values," we will remember a simple truth that remains unchanged through the decades: Equal rights for any group does not diminish the rights of another. No external force can destroy one's values. That happens from the inside out, and only with permission.

Katy Stevens
Salt Lake City

2003-11-06T11:58:00.000-07:00

I'm a little late, but in case you haven't seen it yet: Heroes or Lepers?

Thank God for Cher.

2003-11-05T19:53:00.000-07:00

For some reason, I'm watching the CMA Awards right now.

They're not bad. I think Martina McBride has an incredible voice. And Tim McGraw is kinda hot.

More than anything though, I keep thinking, "I haven't seen this many fat, white people gathered in one place since last month's LDS General Conference."

2003-10-30T23:50:00.000-07:00

Do you think it would be offensive for me to be Elizabeth Smart for Halloween?

All I need is a blonde wig, sensible flat-heel white pumps (with bow), and a generic floral-print Laura Ashley dress, with white lace around the collar so it looks like I stuck my head through a paper doily.

Y'all would get that dress reference if you were Mormon. Or in Utah.

Oh well. Back to the topic at hand:

Anybody have a harp I can borrow?

2003-10-28T23:17:00.000-07:00

Last year for Halloween Patrick & I were altar boy and priest, respectively. I was happy with the idea because we were cutely themed (if politically incorrect) and we didn't run into any other couples in the same costume, though I did hear later there was another floating around Salt Lake.

This year I'm making it more difficult: I want a four-person theme. And I'm out of ideas.

Patrick & I and our friends Darrell & Scott (not a couple, by the way) need a truly great costume idea for the club gay-la on Friday night. Initially I suggested the Golden Girls, but I agree it's overdone and I don't think all involved (read: Patrick and Scott) will do the whole drag bit, even for Halloween. The wimps.

So, what should a group of four guys be for Halloween? I know someone out there has the perfect idea.

There are restrictions though. We tend to be a picky bunch (except for Darrell, whose dancer's body and lovably scattered brain allows him to do just about anything), so I'll outline some things first:

1 - As I said above, drag components must be limited to two of the costumes. Preferably one, as I'm not thrilled about the idea. But I will do it with Darrell if it's a great idea.
2 - Revealing or extraordinarily tight clothing must be limited to two as well. Preferably one, as Patrick will not be thrilled about the idea. But he will do it with Darrell if it's a great idea. :)
3 - It would be great if one costume was that of a 22-year-old gay man and consisted of everyday clothing, as Scott is rather square and would prefer his costume titled Scott in Everyday Clothing.
4 - Darrell is already insisting on wearing a huge, horrible, homemade wedding dress (including big snap-on bow on the ass) that he found at the D.I. (local Mormon thrift store) for $35. That and a hideous, big red wig . . .

So try to incorporate all those items into your suggestions, mmmkay?

2003-10-24T15:31:00.000-06:00

I just discovered that Merriam-Webster Online will audibly pronounce more than just innocent vocab words, and hyphenates too.

The fact that it will even accomodate for regional variances has entertained me longer than I'd like to admit.

I am so 12 years old.

2003-10-23T23:44:00.000-06:00

Today an absolutely gorgeous news intern from BYU, with whom I've fallen hopelessly in lust, politely referred to me as "Mr. [Last Name]."

His vocal inflection indicated that he did it out of respect for my age.

He is just a young college student after all.

For the record, he is at least two years older than I am.

I'm not sure which bothers me more: that I'm lusting after a BYU student, or that he thinks I'm that damn old.

2003-10-19T20:53:00.000-06:00

I'm watching the Beverly Hills, 90210 Reunion Special on VH1 and loving every minute of it.

Sometimes, I hate myself.

2003-10-18T13:01:00.000-06:00

This is so unfortunate, I don't even have the words. How careless and blind can the Vatican be?

Vatican: Condoms Don't Stop AIDS

Not to mention the ever-present Catholic argument in favor of procreation, encouraging population growth in countries that are already dangerously over-populated.

Almost makes us Mormons look good in comparison . . .

2003-10-17T00:23:00.000-06:00

So, New York was awesome. It was one of my best vacations ever. Maybe because I needed it so badly.

I feel kind of like a heel though, because I didn't tell any of my friends in the city that I was coming. Or that I was in town. Or that I was there and left. It's not that I didn't want to see them (I did), I just needed time without anybody, in my favorite city.

And that's what I got. It was perfect.

To NYC friends: I feel bad. But I'm not sorry. I needed it.

I didn't have plans, expectations, appointments, deadlines, or timelines. For six days, I had absolutely no agenda whatsoever. What an ideal life. Too bad it's totally unrealistic.

I was traveling with my good friend, and former boss, Penny (Patrick had school). That was perfect, too. Any description of Penny I give will definitely not do her justice (Patrick will attest to this), but I'll try. Penny is every gay man's perfect best friend. She's Madonna and Cher rolled into one, with a little Patricia Field and Betsey Johnson thrown in for fun. From studying art and photography at the University of Rome in the '60s, to designing New York fashion in the '70s, to styling celebs in the '80s, and globe-hopping between London, Paris, and New York in the '90s, the woman has literally done it all and truly is one-of-a-kind. I have no idea why she's still in Salt Lake City. We met when, during my first week at the TV station, this 50-something size-0 woman (seriously, people) comes screaming up to me because we both have the shame shade (and spiky-cut) of electric blue hair.

You've gotta love that.

By the way, my blue grew out (it was a late-teens-experimental-thing; forgive me) and I went back to my natural boring brown. But I digress.

Anyway, Penny and I are close enough to travel very well together, but distant enough to not get on each other's nerves and to allow each other space without any guilt or hard feelings. Her centered presence was exactly what I needed on this trip.

We slept in late, enjoyed the perfect weather (especially Monday), ate at our favorite Village diners and cafes, shopped, and walked, walked, walked. Sometimes we chatted, sometimes we were silent for blocks. It was great. I think it was my perfect New York week. Fall is so good.

The one slightly work-related thing we did was stop by World News Tonight on Friday to watch Peter Jennings do his thing, thanks to a friend at ABC News. It's always fun to see other newsrooms at work, especially such a major one. Next to Nightline, WNT is about my favorite news program on TV, and Peter was very nice, chatting with us for a few minutes after the show and saying how much he loved Salt Lake City.

In all, I couldn't be happier about the trip. Being away from my regular life made me realize two things: I really don't like my job anymore (mostly due to the devil-corporation takeover in 2002) and I really, really miss Patrick when we're apart. So . . . a little bad, a lot of good.

Oh, and one last thing: I spent way too much money. Shoes, clothes, you name it.

Oh well. That's what you do when you're (slowly but surely) planning a resignation (and therefore unemployment), right?

Right?

2003-10-16T22:11:00.000-06:00

Baby, I'm drunk. Let me be bossy. - Jessica Simpson to Nick Lachey on MTV's Newlyweds.

I need to try that with Patrick.

2003-10-15T23:05:00.000-06:00

Thanks to Aaron for capturing a great description of Zionide from one of my previous posts. He extracted it some time ago, and I liked it so much I made it my new sub-head.

2003-10-08T22:29:00.000-06:00

Just FYI: I'm leaving for NYC in the morning and probably won't post until I return late next week. Don't abandon me - I promise I'll be back.

Oh, and to all you NYers out there: Say "Hi" when you see me! :)

2003-10-06T16:03:00.000-06:00

Yep, it's happening again.

He's on.

Click here.

2003-10-01T14:48:00.000-06:00

Courtesy News of the Weird:

Latest report of 911-emergency excess: Police decided not to charge Lula Brown for 911 abuse recently, even though she had called the emergency number just to report that a McDonald's tried to charge her for extra barbecue sauce (Avon, Ohio).

Americans deserve every bit of ridicule that the rest of the world gives us.

2003-09-26T14:17:00.000-06:00

My next T-shirt purchase just HAS to be this.

2003-09-23T17:01:00.000-06:00

I woke up this morning thinking, "Why don't I enroll at Stevens-Henager College and begin a fulfilling career in the exciting field of medical assisting?"

"After all, I've always wanted a career helping people, and Stevens-Henager College can give me the tools to build a better career."

Wow.

I think that may be a not-so-veiled cry for help.

2003-09-18T13:09:00.000-06:00

This morning at work I got the following email from Patrick:

Just wanted to call your attention to the fact that today is National Chocolate Day. I love this country!

That's it. Nothing more.

I love my boyfriend.

2003-09-17T15:05:00.000-06:00

Nate Berkus is on Oprah again today.

Thus, the following aside:

Hello, and welcome, to all of you searching for "Nate Berkus," "Nate Berkus gay," "Nate Berkus girlfriend," and "Nate Berkus nude" or any combination of the above.

Just to make this easier for you (and to avoid the dozens of email questions), I'll recap what I know about Nate Berkus, as you all seem extremely, even obsessively, interested.

By the way, I do not know Nate Berkus. I have not met Nate Berkus. I am merely a lustful admirer from afar, just like you. And I do not guarantee the accuracy of the following information. But as far as I know, it's true.

Nate Berkus is a an interior designer.
His site is here.
He is approximately 32 years old.
Nate is originally from California, but has lived in Chicago for the last ten years.
His career history is linked above, and below, if you want details.
His mother, Nancy Golden, is also a designer. They've appeared together on the DIY Network.
Nate Berkus is gay. (He's a 2002 Vox Vodka/OUT Magazine Voice of Style & Design honoree)
Yes, he has a boyfriend (partner, husband, whatever). Boyfriend's name is Steve.
As far as I know, today is Nate's fourth appearance on Oprah (excluding reruns).
Yes, he always looks that good.
You can find a photo of Nate here and here and here.
No, none of them are nude. (I wish!)

I've previously mentioned Nate on July 14, May 13, April 21, April 2, and the one that started it all, February 20.

None of those links have additional information about Nate. Some just mention his name, some are all about me lusting after him.

Hope some of that helps satisfy your Nate appetite.

Back to my regular ramblings tomorrow . . .

2003-09-14T20:55:00.000-06:00

Can anyone explain to me how this can nab $66.00 on eBay?

On second thought, I'm not sure I wanna know . . .

2003-09-13T13:12:00.000-06:00

Because I'm on a real Jessica Simpson kick today:

A few weeks ago on the MTV series Newlyweds: Nick and Jessica:

"Is this chicken what I have, or is this fish?" Jessica asks Nick, midway through a tuna sandwich.

"I know it's tuna," she goes on, "but it says chicken. Of the sea."

He winces, and she asks, "Is that stupid?"

This brings up the burning question of the day:

Jessica Simpson: a much thinner, more talented version of Anna Nicole, or just more proof that beautiful equals stupid? Or both?

Discuss.

2003-09-10T23:06:00.000-06:00

Let me start off by saying that I have a really great life. Compared to 95% of the world and even most people I know, I've got it damn good. I realize that.

So why I am so incredibly dissatisfied with my life right now?

I am absolutely and totally bored, not to mention completely dispassionate about everything. It's not even apathy - my feelings are beyond that, if that's even possible.

Tinman Jeff and Biologic Jeff have both posted entries recently that, for different reasons, made me stop and think about my own bland existence. Tinman Jeff seems to be reaching a point of life change that I wish I were courageous enough to attempt, while Biologic Jeff said everything I wanted to (and then some), but so much better than I.

Honestly, most of my dissatisfaction is professional. I've spent a lot of time and effort creating and maintaining a successful career at a pretty young age, and I've had quite a bit of success at it. I really don't want to sound anything but humble, so slap me if you need to, but the simple truth is that somehow I got very, very lucky (not talented, or smart, or hard-working, but lucky) and established myself in this crazy, back-stabbing industry called television. I work with a group of very talented professionals, many of them with 20+ years behind them, and for the most part we have a lot of fun and accomplish a lot despite a truly evil corporate owner.

So why am I not thrilled with this?

I guess because I want more. I don't just want to have fun. I want to learn, and really work, and - here comes the cliche - make a true, lasting impact on . . . something.

What can I say? Maybe I'm a greedy bitch.

The problem is that I got used to a promotion every six months or so, to people saying, "You're how old?!" in business meetings, to consistently finding a new goal for myself, and now that it's slowed to a more reasonable pace and I've hit a ceiling, I'm bored and discouraged. On the linear graph of life, I was on an abnormally steep slope upward for about 22 years, while the last year or so has been pretty damn flat. I'm grateful it's not headed back down, but after the rise for so long, the plateau is a bit jarring. Nice as it is, I didn't really want the respect, power, or even money as much as I wanted to really do something important.

I'm not fun to be around; I know this. I'm angry about everything (and I'm not a particularly angry type of guy). I'm moody and bitchy. And all those feelings, especially the anger, are rooted in a mild depression about my current life state.

So why not change something, right? Why not quit? Get a new job? Move? I think part of my depression is that I am capable of changing some things . . . and I haven't. Mostly because I'm scared, I guess. I'm scared to be without a regular paycheck, or even a paycheck in the amount to which I've grown accustomed. I'm a big wussy man! And frustrated with myself because of it. How will I ever accomplish what I want without taking chances?

Out of several future career options I've considered (from teaching or writing to more television or gay rights activism) I think I know what I want, but it feels so out of reach that I sincerely don't know where to begin in accomplishing it. I have to wonder if it's a crazy pipe dream that I'm going to waste years chasing. Or will I do the "smart" thing and then look back in ten years and wish I'd have at least tried?

I don't really want to talk to anyone about my feelings or mood, even Patrick or my best friends (though I should so they don't think I'm upset with any of them), because if I talk about it now, they'll just keep asking how I am, if I want to talk, blah, blah, blah, and that'll just annoy me. There are more important and better things to talk about than my feelings about myself. I'm way too much of a control-freak to let anybody inquire into my life that much. Or at all. God, I can be childish sometimes! :)

The boredom and mild depression have created a lot of sit-at-home-and-watch-TV-and-stuff-my-face sort of situations, and for that I am beginning to pay. One of my worst fears: a ten-pound weight gain in the last month. Ugh.

That, of course, isn't helping the depression any.

At least I'm still hit-on occasionally at the club. I'm not a total fat-ass.

Yet.

2003-09-08T23:52:00.000-06:00

When one of my best friends (who happens to be a straight man) heard about my now-infamous flip-flop incident he said, "Leave it to a gay man to have a fashion-related car accident."

It took this long for me to think it was funny.

2003-09-03T12:12:00.000-06:00

Dated but still applicable: this pretty much says it all.

2003-08-28T01:42:00.000-06:00

So, I'll admit it: I'm hopelessly caught up in Boy Meets Boy (and yes, Queer Eye, though to a lesser degree - it's beginning to lose its novelty), and I'm going to give one little prediction before we know how it turns out.

I do have to say, however, that I think the concept is a little cruel. Don't you just wish 1/3 of Trista Rehn's potential suitors on The Bachelorette were gay?

Anyway, I think Franklin is straight.

There. I said it. I don't want it to be true. I think he's adorable, and seems great for James. Though he is the most "straight-acting" (whatever that means in today's metrosexual world), he still makes a great "non-stereotypical" gay man. But I do think he's straight.

Why?

I tend to watch all television from a producer's point of view, and during the first episode I thought, "How are they going to guarantee that James won't eliminate all the straight guys before the final week (thereby losing half the surprise appeal)?"

Answer: They made sure that at some point James would only have straight guys available to pick to stay.

In episode 4, where 6 guys remained (two straight), James had to pick one guy to stay from three groups of two. The only way to ensure a straight guy would remain until the final cut was to pair two straight guys together, so James had to end up picking at least one of them.

Darren was paired with Brian, Robb was paired with Wes, and Sean was paired with Franklin.

As we all know now, Sean was the only straight one eliminated that time around, which means Franklin also has to be straight to continue the cruel "twist."

Unfortunately, I didn't think about this until that fourth episode, so I didn't notice any patterns of straight guy grouping in the other episodes' eliminations.

I have no idea if I'm right; it's just a theory. But it's fun to play the game.

By the way, I have no idea about this either (or even much of a theory), but I think James is going to choose Wes, simply because he's the most likely to be gay based on stereotypical observations and Andra's gaydar opinion. It just seems like James has less chance to lose with Wes.

Oh, the pathetic joys of trashy summer cable TV. My life is so sad sometimes. :)

2003-08-13T14:58:00.000-06:00

There's something strangely fascinating about why people are doing this.

With so many psuedo-psychological reasons available to explain why it's happening, I don't even know where to begin in my analysis.

So I won't.

2003-08-05T21:26:00.000-06:00

I need to apologize about the lack of quality in my recent posts, as well as the infrequency with which they appear. There just isn't anything interesting to blog about lately, and when there is . . . my heart's not in it and it comes out poorly. It's just heat-induced apathy. Be patient and stick with me - I promise I'll get back with it and start posting something decent soon.

Anyway, I've been thinking about going back to school, get a graduate degree in . . . something.

College life sounds appealing again. I never really had it the first time around since I was working at the station right after high school. Those three years of my undergrad life flew by, with full-time work and full-time school keeping me way too busy.

I'd kind of like trying to be a real college student, one who could hang out at the student union and have fun, instead of rushing out of class to get to work.

Then again, maybe I'm considering school because it's safe and just another tool I'm using to keep myself from having to figure out what the hell I really want to do with my life. It's certainly not this "managing" the PR-department of a TV station thing . . .

But if I do go back, what in the world do I study? I lean toward English, journalism, or film, but that's just today.

When I started college back in 1999, I was planning on being a calculus/physics major - math, engineering, and electro-magnetic physics were my focus in high school. By my second year though, I had given up on the sciences but didn't know what I was going to do instead.

By the time I finally settled on my mass communication major, I'd majored in anthropology, film, English, political science, sociology, journalism, and marketing.

I ended up picking communication (television management, to be specific) because it was deadline time and mass communication was the area in which I could graduate right then and there, based on what I'd taken so far, and just be done with the whole undergrad thing. Not the best way to pick a path of study, but I figured it didn't matter all that much. Who in the world gets a job in his or her college field anyway? :)

I ended up loving it, but I'm easy to please. It didn't hurt that I already had a TV job, too.

*sigh*

Life decisions.

This grad school subject of study is going to be significantly more important, and more difficult, to determine.

2003-07-31T19:45:00.000-06:00

My parents had to euthanize our cat today.

I won't go into unpleasant details, but it was time; at nearly 19 years old (that's about 92 in cat years), she was miserable.

Honestly, I'm significantly more attached to our dog, Poco (who, at 13 years old, is still my baby!), than I was to the cat, but it's still awful. :(

What really bothers me, I think, is that this cat had been a part of my life forever - literally.

She and a sister kitten were gifts to me when I was 3, and while the sister cat was hit and killed by a car when I was 9, "Patches" (hey, I was 3!) had been around our house ever since, one of the few permanent fixtures to last through the '80s and '90s.

It just makes me feel old.

My childhood pets are getting old and dying.

It makes me worry about my Poco, who's starting to show her age.

2003-07-24T19:55:00.000-06:00

This past week has been one of the most boring ever. I've been working a ton, mostly preparing for Utah's Mardi Gras, aka "The Days of '47," which commemorates the arrival of the Mormon pioneers into the Salt Lake Valley (in 1847).

Don't ask why we do this; who the hell has a three-hour parade when it's 106°F?

Anyway, the whole thing is incredibly Mormon and, of course, a state holiday. But it's such a community thing that the station has to have a huge presence and broadcasts the parade, so I've been really busy.

On the plus side, I got to ride around the parade route on a Segway HT.

I strongly suggest you go for a ride if you get a chance. It's unlike any motion I've ever experienced. You're just kind of floating in a vertical position, even though it feels like you should be falling one way or the other. The gyroscopes inside the Segway check your balance up to 100 times every second to make sure you don't fall over.

I'm sure you've all seen them on TV and let me tell you: the hype is worth it. I desperately want one of my own. Too bad I don't have $5,000 to spend on a toy.

In all fairness, I have to also make note that I did pull a George W. and fall over once. It is possible! That's what happens when you try to show off.

At least I (unlike Dubya) wasn't just standing there when I made a fool of myself.

2003-07-16T18:06:00.000-06:00

Today someone emailed the newsroom with a link to the straight flag and a note that said, " I think this is going to be huge in Utah; have you heard of it yet?"

If you look around the site, you'll see that the company claims, "We are not anti-anything. We do not encourage hate." (As opposed to the scary-conservative StraightPride.com. While noble to proclaim neutrality (or apathy?), it's still a little fishy that the flag's "color principles" include tradition, faith, and purity, among others. (Though StraightFlag.com is much nicer a site than the

Of course, I'm not at all saying that "gay pride" cannot, or does not, include those attributes, but we all know that our rabidly-stupid right-wing crazies use those buzz-words for oppressive purposes.

I agree that there's nothing wrong with, as the site says, being "just proud" and "believing in who [you] are."

But the (possibly) well-intentioned folks over at StraightFlag.com fail to realize that the purpose of "pride" as a movement is to create equality for, and within, an oppressed group. It's about reclaiming a positive identity for yourself after it has been stripped from you by years of nay-sayers and abuse - simply for being who you are. It's about creating self-esteem after yours has been damaged by a straight society. Gay pride is about realizing you're not evil, godless, going to hell, or dozens of horrible other things we've probably all cried about at one time or another.

Don't get me wrong, I realize that modern pride is as much about an excuse to party (in whatever way you define "party"). But pride's original intent was much more than that, and it's still intact under all the glitz, drag, and leather.

Why does a straight community need to make an obvious effort toward pride when pretty much the whole world is "proud" of heterosexuality at birth? Isn't that enough?

Having pride in a community that is rarely, if ever, put down or denied anything is more than a little bit greedy.

2003-07-14T13:46:00.000-06:00

This is more of an accounting note than anything: Hottie-of-my-life Nate Berkus will be on Oprah again today.

Just wanted to document why my hits are about to rocket.

Hello to all you burgeoning Berkus fans out there . . . and welcome! I've been enjoying the view since Nate first appeared on Oprah, back in November, 2002. It is a nice view, isn't it?

Let's get this out of the way: If you came here looking for info about Nate, all I know comes from his site or Oprah's bio on him. If you know more, by all means, tell me!

Sorry I don't have more, especially to those of you searching Google for "nate berkus nude," "nate berkus gay," or a combination of the two.

Trust me, I'd love to be able to help with those inquiries, but I unfortunately just don't have the resources available.

Memo to Nate (and Colin Farrell, incidentally): let me just say for the record that I would never cheat on Patrick, even with you.

However, since Patrick lusts after you nearly as much as I do, we are more than willing to consider a joint effort of some kind . . . if you catch my drift.

2003-07-14T13:05:00.000-06:00

Thursday night on my way home from a station photo shoot at the downtown library, at about 10:45 pm, I killed my beloved 2nd generation Mazda RX-7.

No worries, I'm fine, save for one scratch on each of my hands.

I was driving in the right lane of southbound I-215, when the strap of the flip-flop I was wearing somehow got wrapped around the shaft of my gas pedal (the shaft that connects the pedal itself to the firewall of the car). My foot got wedged on one side of the pedal and my flip flop on the other (it's kind of hard to explain), forcing the throttle all the way open so I was, in effect, flooring it.

I tried to get my foot out, or at least tried to stop forcing the gas pedal down, but it was totally tied up. It had only been a few seconds but I remember I was fast approaching 95+ mph (the last number I remember). I had been glancing down trying to see how to untangle myself when I looked up to see that I was very close to the car in front of me. I swerved right to avoid hitting it but was then headed directly toward the concrete barrier. I swerved back left to avoid hitting the freeway wall but at that speed (probably 100+ by then), I totally lost control of the car.

I spun 180° in a wide arc, across probably three lanes of traffic, barely clipping the rear end of a car in the third lane with the passenger front side of my car as I slid by. So I was then facing the other direction in the third lane over, with a slew of oncoming cars coming toward me head-on. In the middle of the spin around, I had wrenched my foot free and was frantically trying to brake and steer and regain control. The momentum of the arc and 180° spin at such a high speed continued to move my car southbound with traffic, only now I was going totally backwards. Several cars swerved to avoid hitting me head-on as I slid back across the three lanes of traffic at what seemed like a very fast speed. My engine had quit running by then, so I was just skidding now, probably for about 40 or 50 feet, all backwards.

I kept sliding backward quickly and hit the right-side concrete barrier (the one I had earlier swerved to avoid) with the back driver's side corner of my car. The jarring impact of that sent my entire middle console, instrument panel, heating/ac control, and radio into my lap and all over the passenger seat. I was thrown back and up a little, against my seat and slightly against my roof. Of course, I was wearing my seatbelt.

The car I had just barely clipped sped off and most cars kept zooming by. I was at an angle so the front end of my car was blocking half the right lane of the freeway, so I turned on my blinkers and kept my headlights on. I tried to get out, but the impact on the rear corner of the car (where my antenna is, er, WAS) had forced the rear fender forward, making it impossible to open the door. I crawled over and got out of the passenger side. Several cars had stopped by then and I called 911 and dealt with all that crap.

I tried to start the car to move it out of the lane of traffic, and it started beautifully. The engine sounded great, and I hadn't really hit anything in the front that hard. But as soon as it started, it revved to a very high RPM, like the throttle was still all the way down, past redline and stayed there. I shut off the key so I wouldn't damage the engine. I ended up having to start it four times to move it a few inches each time so the tow truck could get to it, and I think I probably totally destroyed the seals, compression, and, in effect, blew the engine by making it rev so high for that many seconds. I still don't know why the engine wouldn't just idle. The jar of the back impact must have been so strong to knock the throttle or something else under the hood open and out of place. After all, it was strong enough to make the interior of my car shoot forward.

Longer story short (too late!), the Utah Highway Patrol was very nice. Despite the flip-flip extenuating circumstances, I got a ticket for improper lane travel. The officer was very apologetic, but said he had to do it. I'm just grateful there were no other cars involved and I was not hurt, especially since it could have been significantly more serious, crossing so many lanes of traffic backwards/head-on and all. I am still very sore the neck/back area from being thrown back and from whiplash.

I am just bummed out about my baby. For those of you who don't know, I'm fully obsessed with RX-7s. Whenever I took the 2nd generation to the dealer for service, all the mechanics would come out to look at it because it was "the best-condition second generation RX-7" they'd ever seen. It was also the only black '88 GXL in Utah.

So much for selling my first-generation RX-7, at least until I decide if I'm buying a new car.

There's a 3rd generation for sale nearby that I'd love to own, or I could look into a new RX-8 or even that Porsche 928 I've always wanted.

Then again, maybe I should consider this a sign that it's time to move to a city with competent mass transit . . .

2003-07-10T16:14:00.000-06:00

Last weekend Patrick and I celebrated our formal two-year anniversary; I surprised him with a night at a local bed & breakfast.

This being Utah and all, I was a little concerned about two men showing up to check-in at a "romantic" locale. I hate that I worry about stuff like that. I hate that I feel like I have to worry about it. I've never had anything even remotely negative happen, but it's still a fear.

The B&B, however, was awesome. I knew we were in good hands when the guy at the front desk lit up when Patrick and I walked in the door. "I just love it when you guys come stay with us," he said, "I'm family, too, you know!"

I don't know why I worried about this one; the place was way too fabulous to not have a little homo help! :)

But whether it's dinner reservations on Valentine's Day or booking an anniversary room, obviously-romantic endeavors always put me a little on-edge. I know that even if someone is rabidly conservative, he or she would probably never intentionally do something to make us uncomfortable (mostly for fear of losing our business - which they would).

Even that initial "Ohhhh . . ." look people sometimes get when it "clicks" in their brains makes me cringe. I really prefer when people don't even bat an eye, like it's a totally typical, normal thing.

Because it is.

2003-07-02T16:54:00.000-06:00

On Sunday I asked if the battle for young queer kids was still going on out there, and last night I got an answer I really didn't want.

The video quality is poor, but you can read the script, too.

2003-06-30T02:18:00.000-06:00

So, let's get this out of the way: Patrick and I are back together.

Neither of us is absolutely certain it's going to be the right thing (who ever has the luxury of certainty?), but it most definitely feels right to try again.

I couldn't spend any more time wondering, "What if I'd [insert your choice of: tried harder, been more attentive, communicated better, etc.]? Would it have made a difference for us?"

So now I am doing those things. Or at least trying to.

And let's be honest; my breakup with him was pretty half-assed, which is totally unlike me. I don’t think I really knew why I was doing it. People would ask, "Why’d you break up?" and I’d never really have much of an answer. Even looking back at posts about it doesn’t help me understand exactly what I was thinking.

Anyway, if it works this time, then great. We've got two really good years on which to build.

If it doesn't, then we both at least can have closure knowing we really did make an effort for it to work.

As Patrick said, "What we had is worth another chance."

We're both realistic about the chances, and we've been really honest about what we're thinking.

Yes, I do really miss certain aspects of my burgeoning relationship with "Andy". But not as much as I missed nearly everything about my relationship with Patrick.

I keep thinking, "If it’s meant to work out, it will."

I hope it’s meant to work out.

Wish us luck.

2003-06-30T01:43:00.000-06:00

Furthering the slightly nostalgic theme of yesterday:

I was really lucky when I came out, save the ongoing parent issues. Six months after I came out, my best friend came out as a lesbian. A year after that, our best friend came out as gay. One more year, and another close friend was out, too. By the time we started college in the fall of 1999, 3 of my 4 closest friends had come out of the closet. I had all the support I'd ever need, and the best thing is that we're all still as close as we ever were.

A couple years before I came out, Salt Lake City dealt with the infamous gay club issue at East High. (The story's told quite well in the 1998 documentary Out of the Past.)

We went to a public high school in suburban Salt Lake City that, for whatever rare reason, was pretty accommodating to us gay kids.

I expected problems when I came out, but I never had a single negative thing happen. It wasn't necessarily acceptance as much as it was apathy. Nobody cared about our sexuality, that's all. I wish the real world were more like that. I had friends who were jocks, nerds, stoners, and every generalization in between, and it just wasn't an issue.

While in 1995 East High had been torn apart by the gay club controversy, we started our own gay-straight alliance in 1998 with barely a raised eyebrow. Soon, the word got out and gay kids from across the city started transferring to the "gay high school."

During the first week or so of my senior year I was sitting in history when a skinny, pale sophomore boy who'd been very quite so far that year walked into class wearing a nice polo shirt . . . and a skirt. The pre-bell chatter stopped immediately. Dead silence. Even for this ultra-liberal school it was something of a shock.

He sat down at his desk as if nothing were different.

The usually-bitchy cheerleader-stereotype sitting next to him turned and looked him up and down rather curiously.

I held my breath, wondering how ugly this was going to get before the teacher showed up.

She started to open her mouth, and I'll never forget the look on his face when she said, "So, did you get that at Express? I saw it there this weekend and it's totally cute!"

And with that, pre-bell conversation geared right back up like nothing ever happened.

I have to admit, that incident totally changed the way I thought about cheerleaders.

It surprised no one that later in the year a group of 16-year-old drag queens were regularly performing during lunch hour. And they were a hell of a lot better than any "professional" queen I've seen since.

How can you not love a school like that?

Sometimes I really do miss my high school years.

2003-06-29T23:52:00.000-06:00

I sometimes don't blog because nothing's going on. Now I'm dragging my feet because there's too much to say.

I can't decide if I'm suffering from a bastard relative of writers' block (bloggers' block?), or if I just don't want to take the mental energy to actually write something.

I guess it would be more appropriate (and succinct) to say, "I'm being lazy."

Not to be too evil, but: Good news of the week part 1: Hot enough down there for ya, Strom?

It also reminds me of this little gem.

Good news of the week part 2: the improving socio-political climate.

The Supreme Court decision "put a little fire in my veins," as my grandmother would say. It's been quite a while since I've been any sort of activist. Domesticity placed me in an "everyday activist" sort of role, just doing my thing without thinking about it, hoping my nonchalance about my so-called "lifestyle" was making a point in itself.

No longer was I an angry, young man - not even an angry young man who just happened to be gay. I'd been pacified by "tolerance" and the blatant lack of discomfort in my daily life. I'd failed to realize that the only reason everyone seemed so okay with my sexuality was because, intentionally or not, I'd surrounded myself with people and places that I knew were okay with it.

See, it really is the gay clubs' fault. :)

If I were to take myself out of my comfortable gay-friendly world, would I recognize the real world now?

What about the scared 14-year old in Idaho contemplating suicide because there's no one around like him? The teenage lesbian in Nebraska taunted at school everyday? The high-school student thrown out of his house because he dared come out? The married man struggling to come out of the closet? The elderly widower fighting with a bitter family for his partner's belongings?

They are still out there, aren't they?

How quickly I forgot the struggles.

But as I slowly realize the effect Lawrence v. Texas is going to have on the rest of our lives, I am again fueled by that youthful desire to fight for what I believe.

When I was coming out in 1996-97, the Internet was still very much in its pre-adolescence, but it seemed to be the prime-time for gay youth websites, from personal sites, to online mags, to support organizations. I remember when X/Y's first issue hit newsstands, and the battle I had with myself over getting up the nerve to buy it. You'd never believe how much time I spent at Oasis, Blair, ELIGHT, and a dozen others.

Then again, you might believe it because some of you were there, too.

The Internet has changed so drastically since then, and I get the feeling that the few queer youth sites remaining are no longer necessary in the way they once were. If so, that's great news. But I also think that there was a certain coming-of-age that the Internet allowed my generation of queer youth. Where are today's gay teenagers getting that? I don't believe it's the same place straight kids are; we haven't come that far, yet.

The only site that even comes close to what I'm desperately (and poorly) trying to explain is Young Gay America, and even it is more focused on the real world than anything I could have imagined "back in the day." Their concept, by the way, is a great idea I wish I'd had the guts to do a few years ago.

I wonder what 17-year-old me would think of 22-year-old me and my life now. I'm afraid it wouldn't be good. I expected a lot more of myself, and that kid would be disgusted with my current socio-political apathy.

Somebody who has a clue, please help me out here. Am I right? Is the Internet no longer the only safe haven? What's it like to be young, gay, and coming out? I'm not that damn old, and I haven't been out that long, but I feel so out of touch with the whole process.

The greater battle for young queer kids is still going on somewhere out there, isn't it?

It makes me very nostalgic and a little sad. How and why did I end up retired from the fighting?

2003-06-22T12:07:00.000-06:00

The trip to NYC was fun; I made only a little progress on a job situation, but I had a great time and in this job market I'm grateful for even that small amount of headway!

I realize my blogging has beecome more of a weekly thing than a daily thing, and I'm sorry; there's just a lot going on right now.

Long story short is Patrick and I are discussing getting back together. We've hit a few roadblocks though, and I'm not exactly sure what's going to happen or when.

Promise I'll fill in the details as soon as I think I can . . .

2003-06-11T15:13:00.000-06:00

Today is the 5-year anniversary of my parental coming out.

Like most people reflecting on an anniversary, I'm surprised it's been five years.

Back in 1998, I was 17 and four days past my junior year of high school. It was a Thursday evening, about 6:30, and pouring rain. After hours of discussion and tears (the usual coming out stuff), I went to bed and somehow fell asleep immediately.

Five hours later, at 4:00 on Friday morning, my mother shook me awake to tell me that my paternal grandfather had died in the night. The funeral would be on Monday.

It was a very numb sort of weekend.

On one hand, I was somehow sickly grateful for a distraction from the coming out issue. It was like my parents had forgotten about our conversation. It made life in the present that much more comfortable - to just deal with death, not homosexuality.

On the other hand, it allowed my parents to ignore the issue and their feelings about it - to not deal with their gay only child.

And so they never did.

Which, I should have known, would make life that much more difficult in the future.

2003-06-07T18:41:00.000-06:00

Sorry I've been MIA all week.

I've been too busy figuring out some things to worry about finding something worth blogging about.

But I'll be back soon, I promise. Hopefully with some answers. Or at least at peace with the fact that I don't have the answers.

You'd probably already figured out why I was gone, after that last post and all. You're a smart bunch.

I leave for NYC on Wednesday. I probably won't have computer access while I'm there.

I expect to be my regularly-blogging self when I return.

After all, last time I visited the city I came back with one of my best stories ever.

2003-05-30T02:17:00.000-06:00

Blah.

That's all I have to say.

Ok, not true. That's all I want to say. There's just way too much.

I'm going to NYC from June 11 - 18. Howdy to all you New Yorkers. Hopefully I'll have some decent job interviews lined up by then.

As for my supposed "love" life, I've been out a total of about 10 times with the guy I blogged about a few weeks ago, whom I'm still calling "Andy." Ten sounds like a lot, and I guess it is, but it's been two or three times a week, just for dinner, a movie, or out to the club, so I don't feel like it's going too fast.

It's been almost a month I've been single. And I've been very honest with Andy about the fresh breakup and where I am emotionally.

The scary thing is how much I'm beginning to like Andy already. Of course, it's still that euphoric "new and exciting prospect" attraction going on, but it's surprisingly good, and I'm not sure how to handle it. It's one of those pairings that doesn't work on paper, and really shouldn't work at all, but it does. In fact, I think he's falling for me. Okay, I don't think. He told me. Not sure how to handle that either. More on Andy and those concerns later.

I'm very torn. I like Andy as much as I miss Patrick. I really do. And that's a hell of a lot. I talk to Patrick once or twice a week, just to make sure he's okay, and he sounds like he's well, but it's still hard, of course.

Patrick told me earlier this week that he had placed a personal ad online. That was hard to hear, and I felt jealous. Here I am, dating a guy I like, and I'm jealous of Patrick placing a personal ad? How dumb is that?!

The other problem I'm having is that I still get all sappy and teary-eyed about Patrick nearly every day. For someone who has always been very in control of my emotions (and even called "ice prince" by friends), I'm a big mess over this. I can't help but think I've made a mistake since I'm still this upset.

Actually, one of the few things to cheer me up is seeing Andy. Sounds like a dangerous rebound situation, doesn't it?

I keep telling myself that this is healthier for both me and Patrick, and he even agrees with me now (though he says he misses me "constantly"), but I can't shake the feeling that I've thrown away something wonderful, despite a few problems.

The truth is, we had very few problems; we were just too young to be so married. I've said that before here, but I can't emphasize it enough. I needed to meet Patrick when I was five or so years older. Maybe we'll still be in contact then and something will work out. Or maybe he'll be married off and I'll be miserable and alone, still pining over him. Or maybe I'll really fall for Andy and that's what was always meant to happen.

I have to stop thinking about this. I never knew I could spend an entire month thinking entirely about one thing. Welcome to an entirely new level of obsession, even for me.

On Monday night I was very lonely. I didn't want to do the Memorial barbecue thing with my family, so I was home alone. All I could think about was how I should have been at Patrick's family's barbecue. I miss his family almost as much as I miss him. My family and I are not close. They are way too ultra-Mormon and conservative for that. But I was a welcome and loved addition to Patrick's family; even his grandpa loved me. It was nice to be their "son-in-law" (his mom's words, not mine).

Anyway, I ended up going to bed early and couldn't sleep.

All night long I thought about getting out of bed and driving to Patrick's.

I'll use the key I haven't yet brought myself to return to open his door, and then climb the stairs, peeking into his room. He'll be asleep in boxers, on his left side with his right leg and arm dangling over the edge of the waterbed, like always.

He never wakes when I enter the room, so I'll quietly get undressed and slide into bed, right where I always do. Even before I get too close, I'll feel his infamous body heat and hear his heart beating.

I'll slip one arm under him and the other over, my chest to his back. At one inch shorter and 20 pounds lighter, he's the perfect size for me to hold. When I spoon him in our usual sleeping position, he'll probably stir, but I'll bet he won't wake enough to remember this isn't normal anymore.

Even if he does, it will only take a few seconds for his sleep-fuzzy mind to realize what I'm doing. He'll half-smile, then sigh and settle into me, back where he belongs.

And then it's my turn. After a month of bad nights, I'll finally sleep soundly again because I'm wrapped around him . . . and safe.

But instead I lie here awake.

Everybody knows it's just so hard to sleep when you're away from your home.

2003-05-24T12:59:00.000-06:00

So, I'm a slacker.

What can I say? It's been a hard week: end of "book" at work (book=Nielsen ratings sweeps for you non-TV-nerds), one of my best friends getting married, and a tough missing-Patrick week. Weddings will do that, I guess.

More on the Patrick thing (and my dating life in general) probably tomorrow. I just don't have the emotional capacity to recount it all today.

Last night at the wedding reception, the best man gave his traditional speech, including advice for the bride (my friend) and groom. It was a nice little speech, if totally typical of a Mormon wedding: a little love talk, a lot of God talk, and absolutely no mention of the impending honeymoon or sex (and at a Mormon wedding, the bride and groom are presumably both virgins) - even in joking.

My favorite part was this:
When my wife and I were married, the best advice we got was "Don't sweat the small stuff - and there's a lot of small stuff." I found that to be very true, and I've had to put up with my share of small annoyances. But hats off to my wife, because it's usually she who has to handle my small stuff.

The poor guy didn't even know what he'd said, and most of the crowd was oblivious, but my friends and I had to leave because we were laughing tears.

God bless the Mo's for making sexual humor so unexpected sometimes.

2003-05-14T12:38:00.000-06:00

A friend at a TV station on the east coast sent me the following comment line call from their station, received in February a couple days after the Columbia disaster. I admit I don't know for sure that it's real, but I'm pretty sure it is since I've already had a few this week that are just as, um . . . passionate.

I'm never shocked when I get voicemail anymore. The general American public is absolutely insane when it comes to TV viewing.

Listen and hear what my mailbox sounds like on an average day . . .

Just a warning: The sound file contains a tiny bit of "strong language," so don't play it too loud at work if you can't get away with that!

2003-05-13T14:58:00.000-06:00

Hottie-of-my-life Nate Berkus was on Oprah again yesterday and my sitemeter jumped by over 200 views in 24 hours - don't laugh, that's HUGE for me!

I'm more than a little embarassed that all these strangers, that is to say, non-regular readers, stumbled upon my blog right after a huge entry about, essentially, my neurosis.

Now, back to the regularly scheduled entries:
On Saturday I ran the Salt Lake Komen Foundation Race for the Cure. It's only a 5K, but I was reasonably proud of myself since I've never been much of an athlete of any sort. My time wasn't spectacular, and I can guarantee the process wasn't pretty, but I did it, and that's all that mattered.

Of course, I was less excited when I looked around the finish line at all the other runners finishing at about the same time I did.

Let's just say I might as well have been at a geriatric hospital for the morbidly obese.

No wonder I faked asthma to get out of P.E. in high school.

2003-05-10T01:56:00.000-06:00

So, I went on a date Thursday night, my first "date" date since April, 2001.

I know it was way too soon to be out dating - I mean, five days after the breakup is crazy - but it just happened, and I went with it.

Last Saturday after Patrick and I broke up, Darrell and Scott dragged me to the club in an attempt to cheer me up and get my mind off the whole situation. I'd been following a strict no-alcohol rule for about a month, just because I thought it was a good idea, and I'd eaten very little that day thanks to the stress.

If ever there was a time to break my rule and fall off the wagon, it was on breakup night. By midnight, I was totally trashed and dancing my ass off. Sometime during the night I started dancing with "Andy," a guy I'd met at the club several weeks before.

Our first meeting he approached me and asked, "Didn't you used to go to [the U of U gay student group]?" I was surprised because I didn't recognize him, but told him that I hadn't been for almost two years. We talked a little and that was it. Every week I kept seeing him at one club or another and we'd very innocently chat. He didn't really flirt or anything and of course neither did I - at the time I thought I was just making a club friend. He was very nice, but kind of shy, quiet, and reserved. Not the type I'd ever expect out at a dance club, though he was a great dancer.

Well, last week after dancing with him I'm sure he could tell how drunk I was, and I guess that bolstered his confidence. He asked for my phone number, and I started to say, "Oh, sorry I have a boyfr . . ." when my drunken little mind went "CLICK" and remembered I was single, as of about 8 hours before.

So I gave him my number. Like I said, he was nice (and damn cute, by the way), and I was drunk and hurting. I know it was crazy to allow myself to be picked up on eight hours after breaking up with a long-term boyfriend. I absolutely know this. But I did it anyway.

"Andy" called Wednesday ("Nice," I thought, "Not too eager, not too distant.") and asked if I'd like to go out to dinner and coffee the next evening. I had been nervously waiting for him to call, not really sure what I was going to say. He didn't know anything about my situation. I'd planned to apologize for being so drunk, explain briefly what had happened, and ask if we could go out in several weeks, when I was more ready.

But when he called, I could tell he was very nervous about it all, stuttering and shaky, saying "um" a lot - the whole bit. I thought it was adorable. It had been so long since I had made anyone nervous; it was flattering, if that makes sense.

So I ended up saying yes. We went out, had a nice dinner, great conversation, a really good first date. He wasn't nervous in person ("I kept telling myself you were just the guy I'd been talking to every weekend since March," he said). I guess it wasn't really a first date since we somewhat knew each other from talking at the bar.

After coffee we went CD shopping. He, too, is an insane music fan and we'd talked about music for almost 3 hours, all through dinner and coffee (though I don't drink coffee . . . not really a Mormon thing anymore, just a health/caffeine thing).

When he dropped me off at my car, I didn't know what to do, but I ended up giving him a quick kiss on the lips. That was a little strange. I hadn't kissed anybody besides Patrick for so long; I was shocked when Andy didn't kiss like Patrick does. But there was also that little spark, that electrical connection that sometimes happens when you touch certain people . . . especially lip-to-lip. Patrick's and my electrical connection had pretty much faded to a pleasant, comfortable, very sweet familiarity, so that spark was unexpected.

While I was driving home I realized that I was surprised at how much fun I'd had. I haven't connected to someone on so many levels so quickly since Lionel had to leave. I'm not sure what that means. I'll see Andy on Saturday night at the club, like always, and I guess we'll see what happens.

Of course, it being just one week later I still miss Patrick all the time and I thought about him throughout my date with Andy. I did stop crying at every sappy TV commercial by Wednesday though.

I'm a little afraid I'm going to cause myself trouble, but I'm certainly not going to do anything but "date" Andy occasionally, along with anybody else who interests me. I mean, I broke up with Patrick because I wanted freedom to be young and single while I actually was young. There are already way too many married Utahns under the age of 25, and I've always thought that was insane - it's just too early for a life commitment. I also thought Patrick and I could both grow, as individuals, and I could focus on improving some other aspects of my life. But regardless of my reasons, there's no way I'm going to start "seeing" any one person, unless it's Patrick . . .

Again, I know doing anything this soon is stupid, and it kind of makes me feel icky, like I'm belittling my relationship with Patrick because I am already going out socially. However, I've rationalized that the sooner I am social and dating, the sooner I can be objective about our breakup. I still wake up (alone) every morning and think I've made a mistake and want to run back to him.

The problem is I'm not sure if I'm missing Patrick himself, or missing the pure intimacy of a relationship. In other words, am I craving something uniquely him, or something generically comfortable? I just don't know, and the more I'm involved with other guys (though not sexually!), the better I think I'll be able to judge exactly what I am missing.

But that's likely just me rationalizing myself back to sanity.

2003-05-06T16:44:00.000-06:00

Thanks to everybody who emailed or left a comment; I really appreciate "strangers" making an effort to make me feel better!

I'm feeling better, trying to keep busy. Of course, every once in a while something comes up that reminds me of Patrick and I get a little messy. :)

Time, time, time will make it all better, I'm sure. I'm so tired of thinking about this, so I'm not going to say anything else about it right now.

In the meantine, go over to Biologic Show and read some actual Mormon doctrine (though very dated) about preventing . . . "self-abuse."

Though it's still discouraged, and I remember having pretty strong lessons about it in church, thank God they don't say stuff quite like that anymore.

By the way, the drawings of clothing scattered throughout are the infamous "sacred Mormon underwear."

There's nothing quite like two Mormon boys scrambling to get each other out of that sacred underwear. Trust me on this one.

2003-05-05T15:10:00.000-06:00

I've been a very bad blogger this past week. I'm sorry.

I broke up with Patrick on Saturday. It was really hard.

The short version is this: I need to be single right now. After two really good years together, I have to be alone for a while to try to figure out what's next in my life. As much as I love him - and boy, do I - we are too young for either of us to be as "married" as we have been. Too often I find myself not going after that great new job in another state because I'll miss him, and I can't do that. I can't let myself do that.

I know it sounds selfish, but I just can't.

When we met, Patrick was really depressed, clinically depressed in fact, and he always said I was the reason he came out of it. Since I'm doing this now anyway, for me, I hope he uses the time to figure out his own happiness. It's not healthy for him to rely on me for his happiness.

I guess really there are a lot of complicated reasons behind it. But I still think it's a good thing for both of us in the long run, even if we're miserable right now. I keep telling myself: Sometimes the best things are the most difficult.

Already, I really miss him. I don't even know what to do without him. We've been each other's other halves for essentially our entire adult lives.

I didn't get out of bed at all yesterday and, other than sleep, I haven't cried for maybe 2 of the last 48 hours (Boy is work fun!).

*sigh*

One more time: Sometimes the best things are the most difficult.

2003-04-27T16:13:00.000-06:00

It's one of those days where getting into and out of the shower without a major disaster feels like an unparalleled victory.

God bless Sundays.

2003-04-25T01:04:00.000-06:00

I don't have much to say lately. I've been strangely depressed, for no good reason really. I'm just bored with my life as-is, but not motivated enough to change anything about it.

Yet.

This has happened a few times before, and I can tell you what's going to happen.

My boredom/frustration/depression will build and build and build, until it's reached a point beyond what I think I can handle.

And then nothing happens.

A few MORE weeks pass.

Then . . . something explodes and my life is massively changed.

Sometimes, I just snap and make a ton of changes I've been thinking about for months. Other times, karma/God/nature/whatever rears its head and changes my life for me (though it's always a by-product of something I've done in the past - just shows me that I am fully responsible for my own future).

I hope it's the latter. The former option requires too much work right now.

I told you I was unmotivated (and lazy).

And the changes I'm talking about aren't little things. They're the kind of changes that come after you've spent hours and hours re-evaluating your entire life.

This begs the question: If I know this process is beginning, why not shortcut the wait and just do something to change my life now?

I don't know. I just don't feel like it. I'd rather go to sleep. :)

Plus, I don't think I'm done re-evaluating yet.

But, just wait.

Something big is coming.

*sigh*

It better be.

2003-04-21T16:46:00.000-06:00

This post is me acting like a completely stupid adolescent with a celebrity crush. I'm sure any intelligence points y'all had given me up to this point are now destroyed. But I had to share. Aren't we all allowed some brainless lustful panting every once in a while?

My latest celebrity lust-crush, Nate Berkus, is on Oprah again. Her website has an upated bio and a new (too small) photo that just further convinces me Nate is destined to be my new husband.

Go look. I think you'll agree. We're perfect together.

Plus, Zionide gets more Google hits from "Nate Berkus" than anything else. Why not say more about him? The masses obviously want more.

I think we just need a "Nate Berkus Show."

The "new husband" title used to go to Duncan Sheik, whom I still absolutely love and adore, but something about Nate just . . . really works out for me. And Duncan was The Man for over six years, so this is quite an event. Oh, and FYI: Paul Rudd still rounds out the top three.

You're all invited to Nate's and my wedding.

Just don't tell Patrick. Or Duncan and Paul.

2003-04-19T15:40:00.000-06:00

I am such a slut.

Ok, not really. But last night was an absurdly good time with, of all people, three straight men. At a gay club . . . drinking . . . and dancing. Who knew?

It started when I agreed to go see Hell's Belles, an all-girl AC/DC cover band (don't ask . . .), with three straight guys I know, along with two of their girlfriends. We went to the show, which wasn't that great, and got tipsy. Half way through, we were all bored, so I jokingly said, "Let's go hit the gay clubs!"

Imagine my surprise when the three hetero guys paused, looked at each other curiously, and said, "Okay!"

Flash forward to an hour later: There I was, sandwiched in the middle of three slightly drunken grinding men - all straight, and all hot. I'm sorry if I'm beating the "straight guy" thing to death, but I just couldn't believe it. Am I sheltered? Do things like this normally happen to everyone else? I'm not sure the girlfriends could believe it either though.

I would have given an appendage for a camera last night.

After three and a half hours of non-stop dancing, most of it in frighteningly close contact with heterosexual men, I came home and went to bed. I have never danced like that, for so long, with so many people.

And this morning, I am so sore.

God, I'm old! :)

Since those guys were: 1) friends, 2) drunk, and 3) straight, I decided that all my close-contact grinding with men other than Patrick was okay (mostly because of #3). It does not make me a bad boyfriend, or a bad person. Just an opportunistic one. Plus, I told Patrick all about it, and he loved it.

After all, how many gay men can say they've been groped by three straight guys at once?

2003-04-16T23:52:00.000-06:00

On Monday, I heard that the April 23rd episode of ABC's daytime soap All My Children will be broadcasting the first ever daytime lesbian kiss.

Yesterday, the American Family Association apparently sent out "alerts" to all their email subscribers, asking them to boycott the network and sponsors, and email their local ABC affiliate with the following message:

Subject: All My Children Lesbian Kiss

Dear Station Manager,
I am offended that (call letters) might air the first daytime television lesbian kiss. Your station's promotion of homosexuality presents a dangerous and unhealthy lifestyle to our community.
As a viewer, I am requesting that you pre-empt the April 22 episode of "All My Children." In addition, I am requesting that you place this letter in your public file, as mandated by Federal Law (47 U.S.C. 73.3526(e)(9))
Sincerely,
(your name)

This, for reasons both personal and professional, annoys me to no end!

As Utah is pretty conservative, especially the daytime TV viewers, my "viewer comments" email address received almost 150 of those emails just today (all with the wrong air-date, by the way), many of which didn't even bother to insert the appropriate call letters.

I briefly considered enrolling each and every one of those email addresses in "free gay porn" spam email lists, but decided to make my revenge slightly more meaningful, but no less fun - and you can do it too!

Visit any of the American Family Association affiliated sites, like One Million Moms, One Million Dads, etc. and click on "issues." (Or use this link.)

There you'll find every current issue the AFA has deemed inappropriate, dangerous, or just plain immoral (they're even attacking the Make-A-Wish Foundation!), along with automatic email links to send off your very own carbon-copy condemnation. You type in your name, make any "personalizations" to their hatred-spewing note, click send, and your "personalized" email gets sent to every related email address the AFA could come up with, usually the company's top executives.

Of course, on most - if not all - of the issues I wholeheartedly disagree with those right-wing idiots, so I used their handy email forms to send off messages of support for the issues most important to me; you just delete their standard condemnation and write in your own happy note.

For example, in a message to Johnson & Johnson about their domestic partnership benefits, the AFA message says:

I am profoundly disappointed in Johnson & Johnson's decision to equate homosexual "couples" and "partnerships" with the God-ordained covenant of marriage. Your memo stated that "benefits will be offered to the same and opposite sex domestic partners."

This letter is NOT about bashing homosexuals. It is, however, about impressing upon you the importance of taking a stand for what is morally right. Corporate America has given into situational ethics too often.

If Johnson & Johnson presents itself as a "Family" company, it needs to support the "family". It does not need to support couples "living together outside of marriage" or homosexuality.

In the past, insurance benefits have been reserved for those who are married. Extending them to unmarried or homosexual couples makes the statement that Johnson & Johnson is not a "Family Friendly" company.

Your response will impact my future decisions when considering your fine line of health care products.

My brief message to Johnson & Johnson, courtesy of the helpful AFA email system, said:

Thank you for altering your employee benefits plan to include support for families of all kinds, including same-sex partners. As a consumer, I appreciate your commitment to equality and applaud you for being a true "family friendly" company.

I only sent three today, but when I have more time, I'm heading back again and using the bigots' tools against their cause.

It was especially gratifying to email the AFA afterward and thank them for their service, explaining exactly how I used it, of course.

It's human nature to only make noise when we're upset about something, but that apathy is almost as dangerous as the hate-mongers themselves. Consider sending your own happy note if you have time.

2003-04-14T12:30:00.000-06:00

Good friend Deb, of Debcentral fame, says:

I have been meaning to mention to you that in modern Hebrew, the word for zion is pronouced "tsee-yone". If you are to prounce the word zion, or "zee-yone", this is very funny, as it is a slang term for the male stuffers.

By "male stuffers" Deb is avoiding use of the word "penis." So sweet and innocent, such purity and light - that's our Deb.

Regardless, I had no idea. How shockingly appropriate. Here I thought I was just having some pedestrian word fun with "cyanide" and the Mo's name for Salt Lake City.

As I've discovered so many times before, penis is more involved in my life than I thought.

It gives an entirely new meaning to "Death by Zion," doesn't it?

2003-04-13T13:39:00.000-06:00

I'm afraid I'm becoming a weekly clubber. This is the second weekend in a row I've ended up dancing somewhat drunkenly at the local gay dive bar. It's always fun, but oh-so-trashy, and something I swore I'd never do.

Near the end of the evening, I noticed a guy, Mark, whom my friend Darrell had been dating off-and-on for a couple months. Mark and I had met a few times when he and Darrell were hanging out, so I went over to say hi.

Me: Hey! How have you been?
Mark: Great! What about you?
Me: I'm fine.
Mark: Did you get my message?
Me: Message? What?
Mark: Yeah, I called you the next day, I swear. Didn't you get that message?
Me: Next day? I'm Darrell's friend. You and I haven't slept together.
. . . silence . . .
Mark: Ah, shit . . .

Not knowing if you've slept with someone or not: Sign #146 that you may be a slut.

2003-04-09T15:05:00.000-06:00

Things have been insanely busy this week, and I'm behind in posting, so I apologize.

I'm feeling a lot of pressure to write something witty and fabulous because one of my favorite bloggers linked to me and I don't want to dissapoint her or any of her readers.

I'd just link to some of my favorite previous posts, but blogger is still creating a mess with my archives, so you'll have to scroll down to appreciate my dysfunction at its best.

Pretend there's something grand in this space right now, and hopefully I'll come through soon.

2003-04-06T17:33:00.000-06:00

Last night at the club I saw a guy I hadn't seen since I was single - just over two years ago. He didn't see me but I watched him from across the dance floor for several minutes. (Yes, I felt like a creepy voyeur, but I did it anyway.) We'd met at a different club in early spring 2001, just a few weeks before I met Patrick. He was incredibly hot and that night we danced for over an hour and then ended up making out in a secluded corner of the patio for another hour (at the time, completely out of character for me).

When the club closed at 2:00 am (stupid Utah laws), the bartender came outside and said, "Sorry boys, time to take it to one of your places." We were both quite drunk (thank you, fake ID) so we went home with our respective designated drivers and I think both assumed we'd run into the other at the club in a few weeks. We were far too wasted to exchange numbers or anything. I never saw him again, until last night, and had pretty much forgotten about him since I met Patrick.

Last night when I saw him, I wanted to say something, do something, anything. I wasn't thinking about Patrick, but I wasn't not thinking about him either, if that makes sense. I was just in another world, two years prior, wanting to have some innocent drunken fun again. I'm sure monogamy precludes that sort of behavior, and for the first time in a very long while, I'm not sure I'm ready to be so committed to one person - at least not this early in my life. For so long I looked for someone with whom to be monogamous - I craved a boyfriend. And now that I've had it for a while, I'm starting to crave some freedom.

I'm not sure what to do now, if anything, so I'm just going to think about it for a few weeks. I have no doubt I love Patrick, but I'm suddenly wondering if I'm ready to love someone. Does that make sense at all? It sounds like I'm making excuses for wanting to be a big unfaithful whore, but I'm not looking to get laid; I'm just worried because I'm craving something from my past.

Something so intense that, even though it happened over two years ago, I still remember how my lips were sore when I got home that night.

2003-04-03T00:12:00.000-07:00

As a proud (gay) Mormon, *ahem*, I'm always happy to poke a little fun at the weird little group to which I belong. I ran across The Mormon Name Generator and had a chuckle, though I have to admit that most Mo' names I know aren't quite that bad.

For some real Mormon names that are that bad (okay, Utah names, but most are weird because of a Mormon influence), visit the Utah Baby Namer. Some of my relatives' names are actually listed there, which is a little scary. Check out the best of for the truly unbelievable. My favorites are BeDae, Latrina (sense a theme?), Delightra, Fairlene, Aquanetta, Blondeen, and Zion (woohoo!).

Ah, Utah.

Just wait until I explain our massacre of the English language, called "Utahnics," the mysteries of "Fry Sauce" (which I admit I love), and how a "stake" is a geographic parameter.

The rest of the world has so much to learn! :)

2003-04-02T13:54:00.000-07:00

Someone just found my blog by searching for "Nate Berkus gay" on Google. I'm sure they were disappointed that my post that mentioned him had no juicy details, but at least they know they're not alone. (I'd link to that post, by my archive is truly screwed up and the nice folks at blogger haven't been able to fix it. That's why all my posts are on the main page for now.) And yes, I'm still fully obsessed with and lusting after him.

My friend Tyler and I engaged in a frequent favorite pastime of ours last night: critiquing online personals. Though we are both very attached, that doesn't stop us from looking and laughing (and very occasionally drooling).

We formulated a few tips for anybody out there writing a personal on gay.com or some other dating site. Be aware that the examples used are all real. Scary, I know.

1) "I hate these things" as a headline is neither unique nor eye-catching.
2) "I live with my parents," "I'm still looking for a job," and "I'm planning on starting school soon" are not things you should highlight when trying to impress a potential mate. Especially when all of those things exist in one profile, or if you're over 30.
3) "Abercrombie" or "A&F" is not an appropriate way to describe your physical self. In fact, it should not be used as an adjective at all, e.g. "I'm tall, muscular, and very Abercrombie" is an extremely unfortunate sentence.
4) "No fats/fems" will not help you get butch, attractive boys. Those boys will think you are a shallow bitch. If you have criteria such as that, be tactful.
5) A profile with a headline of "Shallow guys look elsewhere!" should not include only photos of you shirtless.
6) A close-up photo of your dick is not appropriate accompanying a headline that says, "Looking for more than just sex."
7) If "Gym 6x/wk" is intentionally in your "personality" section, then it's probably absolutely accurate.

I'm sure I'll add to these as time goes on; these are just the ones I can remember today. If you have any you'd like me to add, please tell me!

2003-04-01T14:28:00.000-07:00

Today I spent too much time with too many people in a meeting about nothing. It was supposed to be a meeting to decide if we should re-design the news set. Of course, it was a complete and total cluster-fuck.

It went something like this:

News Director: Thanks for coming everyone. I want to discuss if we need to look at revamping our on-air look, particularly with a new set.
Art Director: If we need to look at revamping? So, you're not sure?
News Director: No, I'm not sure, but I think our viewers are tired of this look. We've been on this set for almost two years.
Research Director: I could pull some data from our latest qualitative analysis about the response the visuals are getting.
General Manager: Or should we commission a new study to look specifically at the set?
Chief Engineer: I've got some technical issues that need to be addressed in any re-design.
Art Director: I have been thinking it would be nice to look at some new color schemes.
Broadcast Engineer: Hold on a minute - a new set with new colors will have to be re-lit, and-
Stylist: . . . and new lighting means new wardrobe and makeup palette.
Business Manager: The 2003 budget doesn't allow a new wardrobe for talent.
Sales Director: Maybe we have a retail client who will do some clothing trade for airtime.
Stylist: I'm not working with Target again.
General Manager: I would like to see [Lead Female Anchor] in some other colors. Maybe a warm blue . . .
Art Director: There's no such thing as a "warm blue."
Chief Engineer: Wait - what about the technical issues? It won't matter what talent wears if we can't get a broadcast on-air.
Stylist: We won’t want to be on-air if the talent looks dead.
News Director: A new set would really liven up the talent.
General Manager: So, we’re decided?

I won’t subject you to any more corporate idiocy. It’s pretty obvious that station management is a total mess. There’s not an ounce of concern about content or solid journalism among the straight white men in charge, specifically the general manager and the news director.

It’s frustrating because there are a lot of good, very talented people working here who are just being mismanaged by the boys with the money.

I’m truly frightened for the future of TV news.

If we’re this screwed up, I can only imagine what network must be like.

2003-03-30T15:45:00.000-07:00

Bart asked below if I ever heard from Lionel (LEE-oh-nel, for all you Americans) again, the European ex-boyfriend, and since I got a couple emails with the same question, I thought I'd just tell ya'll about it:

We email or write every couple months, and he called last week on the two-year anniversary of his leaving. I think about him all the time, and what life might have been like. Lio and I had an absurdly instant, almost electrical connection - something I didn't believe in until I experienced it. It was intellectual but passionate, intense but light-hearted, all at the same time. It's hard to explain, but those of you who've had a relationship like that know what I mean. I kind of don't think I'll ever have that connection with anyone else.

Anyway, Lio always asks if I "want to come stay awhile" in Florence or Biel/Bienne (he's half Swiss, half Italian . . . and all hottie), but there aren't really a lot of employment options for an American TV guy. Sometimes I think I should do it, just to see, but I'd be leaving way too much behind: friends, work, and of course, Patrick. I can't justify losing an established, wonderful, long-term relationship with Patrick for the chance that, after two years, Lio and I could have the "magical" relationship we had before.

Do I have that same magic with Patrick? No, not really, but we have something else great, and I'm really happy with it.

I would like to visit Lio one day, especially since I'm long overdue for another trip to Europe, but I'm not sure how Patrick would react to that. Lio always says to bring Patrick too, but I think that would be a little too weird for me:

"Patrick, this is Lionel, the man I loved before you, who was heartlessly taken from me by our government, while I was left crying at the airport."

Yeah, right. I really don't need that gay soap opera in my life. That's what my friends are for.

2003-03-29T01:34:00.001-07:00

Do you ever wonder about your exes? Since I'm a relatively young man, and not a complete and total whore, I technically only have two ex-boyfriends.

Is two exes a lot for my age? Is it very few? How does one judge these things?

I don't know what it is lately, but last post I was pondering my "old" age and now here I am thinking about my past . . . flings. Do you sense a trend here? I am uncomfortably nostalgic lately, and I'm not sure that's good.

I'm always curious about my first boyfriend, Tim, because he dumped my ass and broke my heart (though now I'm glad - isn't that the way firsts are?). I keep hoping I'll read that he's been arrested for indecent exposure or humping a hippo in public or something fun like that.

The other boyfriend, Lionel, is a little more complicated. Sometimes I feel like he's the cliched "one that got away." I thought he was beautiful, brilliant, and absolutely amazing. I was very much in love with him, or at least as in love as I could be at 20 years old. As far as I know, he felt the same for me. But, Lio was an international student at the University of Utah, where I was also in school, and six months after we met, his student visa expired and the INS made him go back to Europe.

God bless the good ol' U.S.A. . . . .

2003-03-28T16:07:00.000-07:00

I feel so old. At lunch today, I looked around at all these 12 year-olds in the restaurant and asked Megan, "Is school out today?" She looked at me, eyebrows raised and said, "No, why?" Just as I was about to explain, one of those 12 year-olds drove by in a BMW. And I mean drove. As in behind the wheel.

That's when I began to feel old. And I know I'm not old. I have a lot of friends who are in their mid-30s and they always roll their eyes when I say stuff like that, so I don't mean that I'm some old man. I know I'm just 22, and really very young, but it just feels old when I'm thinking to myself, "Those kids are about 5 years younger than I am." Which is true, but I'm thinking, for some reason, that I'm 17 again. Why is it always 17?

Maybe I just don't think I've experienced any personal growth since then. 17 was one of those ages where a lot changed in my life. I learned a lot, and I don't really feel like I've grown any since then. At least not substantial all-at-once growth.

When I was 17, I came out to my parents, I bought my first car, I got my first real job. I'd already been out at school and to friends for a year. I finally felt like I was on my way to adulthood. The problem is that I still feel like I'm just on my way, and, despite the job and two-year-old relationship, I'm not ready to be all the way there yet.

Sometimes you need to just fuck around. Even if you're old. And I don't necessarily mean that literally.

2003-03-26T16:31:00.000-07:00

Last night during the late news we ran a brief piece on spaying and neutering dogs and cats - typical C-block (after the last commercial) fluff.

This morning, my phone line that takes viewer comment calls had the following messages. Note that listening is significantly better than merely reading these, so my apologies if you don't find this as entertaining as I do.

Comment #12; 7:05 am
My comment is about your story about cats and how they need to be fixed. Please don't do that; the anthrax bacteria is transmitted by animals and mice are very hard to catch - the only ones to do that are cats, and cats are very easy to maintain and can roam in the streets without any trouble. You need to know about defense in these times of war. Maybe the terrorists, instead of using bacteria in bottles, will do it with animals, mainly rats or mice. Anthrax is a disease that can be transmitted easily and the animals can live for five or ten years and cannot be controlled. If you have cats, they can kill the rats and the mice and then you can burn the cats, so it is a public issue. Please do research on it and even tell the Parliament about it. Don't fix the cats, reproduce them and let them roam. They are pretty, they don't hurt people, they are easy to maintain and in ancient times they were used to control diseases that were transmitted, so actually it is really important that you do not neuter them. Thanks.

Comment #13; 7:12 am
This comment I just told you about cats, I forgot to tell you that every house in America, every business, your station, and all the Parliament including national houses are supposed to have cats. Don't think that this is a joke - it is the truth that bacteria is inoculated in mice and that's the main transmission, so I beg you to call the people who are neutering the cats and promote every family adopting a cat because hopefully one day it may be that cats are the best weapon that you have against terrible disease. I am sorry it sounds stupid now but it is not. Do research and do a whole program about it and see how pretty cats are and how useful they are as the best weapon we have in America against attacks.

Burning the cats? Realize that this call is absolutely typical of the viewer comment line. When I get 5-7 calls per week like this, how can I not love my job?

2003-03-25T23:26:00.000-07:00

When I was in New York a couple weeks ago, I was waiting for the uptown 1/9 at Canal Street when I noticed 6 teenage girls and two middle-aged women - all white - looking absolutely terrified. The girls were huddled around the women, trying to look nonchalant as they clutched each other and their bags, glancing around uneasily at the ethnic minorities, homos, the homeless, and other "scary" New Yorkers. The two adults were doing no better themselves, with four maps between them, whispering loudly about which train would get them back to the Waldorf-Astoria.

The women's fur-trimmed coats and real Louis Vuitton purses spoke volumes, as did the massive jewelry and caked-on makeup. For whatever reason, I felt sorry for them and asked where they were going. I looked very much the tourist myself, and they looked surprised and relieved. While explaining the trip they'd need to take to get back, the 1 came and we all boarded on. Once I'd proven to be a nice, helpful young man, Woman #1 was feeling very chatty and told me how they were all from Texas, she and her friend were chaperones for their daughters' high school music tour, and her oldest daughter was 18 and wanted to move to New York. She asked me where I was from originally, because, "I can tell you're not a native New Yorker!"

I couldn't decide if I should be flattered or not. On one hand, they thought I lived in the city. On the other, they knew I was just a poser in some way.

Regardless, I decided to play it up a little.

Me: I'm from Salt Lake City.
Woman: Oh, Utah?
Me: Yeah, Utah. I moved here for work last year.
Woman: My, what a change!
Me: Yeah, it was a shock at first, but now I love it.
Woman: Oh, I see . . . (whispering) can I ask you something?
Me: Sure.
Woman: Is it hard to stay clean here?
Me: Uhhh . . . you mean because of all the pollution and trash and stuff?
Woman: No, no . . . I mean . . . I mean, like, morally clean. Is it hard to stay straight here?
Me: Straight?
Woman: Yes, on the straight and narrow path. I'm asking as the mother of a young woman who wants to be here. You're from a very moral place, and obviously a well-bred young man. What do you think?

I didn't quite know what to do with this now. There were so many options! I don't know what qualified me in her mind, but I decided to be nice.

Me: Well, I guess that depends on your definition of "straight and narrow path."
Woman: Oh, you know! None of that pervy stuff. It's so rampant here! We've seen so many dirty stores already, and I'd heard they cleaned up the city and made it family-safe, but (whispers even lower now) there are so many ho-mo-sexuals!

I really didn't know what to do at this point. I couldn't believe she'd actually said it like that. I couldn't believe she thought of "ho-mo-sexuals" as a threat.

I couldn't believe she obviously thought I was straight!

I realized I lead a very sheltered life - sheltered from ignorance, intolerance . . . and about 70% of Americans' stupidity.

The train was just pulling up at 34th Street.

Me: I don't think gay people are something you have to worry about. You should hope your daughter meets some.
Woman: (fully perplexed) Oh?
Me: This is my stop. But, yeah - a good homo will take the time to get you home safely from Canal Street before he goes home to his boyfriend. Have a good night.

With that the doors closed, and I watched 8 sheltered Texas women pick their jaws up off the floor. It was truly a scene from a movie.

By the way, my stop was really 110th Street, but it was way too good an exit to pass up.