Really?

As I was packing just now, I had the TV on in the background.  I happened to noticed that the Lifetime Movie Network was running Prayers for Bobby-a movie based on a true story about an oppressed gay youth who took his own life.  At the commercial break, it was advertised that the movie was part of a marathon of films.  The title of the marathon? "Under age and out of control."  Wow, Lifetime....wow.

I hate Dentists

Having a stranger knuckles deep in my mouth is not my idea of a good time.  I chipped a tooth back in July while scarfing down a piece of cold fried chicken during my lunch break while in rehearsals in Nebraska. Although it was a pretty big chunk, I wasn't in any pain so I decided to let it go until I could visit my own dentist back in PA.  Well here I am only a few days from moving back to school and not a single dentist can see me.  One would think that in the year 2010 I would be able to reach one of the 15 dentists I called at 3:00p on a weekday, but one would be incorrect.  The only option for me to get my tooth fixed, which was now developing sensitivity, was to make an appointment with Sears dental, now DentalWorks.

So, I went in this afternoon to find that my problem was a sizeable cavity which had weakened the structure of the tooth.  Great.  Four shots of novocaine (or whatever they use now), a good drilling, and a brief altercation with a bitchy dental assistant later, I have a brand new filling. 
It's hard to choose my favorite part of local anaesthetic.  I'm torn between the D.M.D. yelling at me to move my toungue out of the way (you numbed it, you jackass, I can't feel where it is), or the fact that I couldn't feel the right side of my face for four hours. 

Needless to say, I will be flossing tonight.

Why do we do this to ourselves?

I used to make fun of people who spent long hours mourning the end of a "silly" (my word, not theirs) relationship.  After spending most of my high school career telling my friends how little boys/girls mattered in the grand scheme of things, I now find myself tasting faux suede as I deep throat my size 10 Adidas.

It's been nearly a year since my ex and I ended our relationship and only recently have I been able to move on.  It took months and months of crying, pleading, and poor decision making for me to finally realize that I am, like everybody had been telling me from the start, better off.  It took much longer than I thought it would, but I can safely say that I am finally over it. That is until one of those sneaky emotional triggers catches you by surprise.  It can be as simple as catching the tail end of a TV show that you used to watch together or finding, like I did today, an article of his clothing that still smells like him.  It sucks big time.

Needless to say, I've been thinking a lot about relationships lately, prompting, the following:
Although it's slowly been dying, it is no wonder that the age-old stererotype of homosexual promiscuity continues to thrive.  It's no secret...a lot of queers are bad at maintaining long-term relationships.  But, so are a lot of straight people.  Furthermore, the reason that some gays struggle with monogomy isn't because they're whores.  It's because, in many cases, homosexuals are forced to be late bloomers.  Heterosexuals start dating comparatively young.  They make all of the traditional mistakes and bad choices early on and eventually, save a few, stop fucking up.  Homos don't have the same luxery.  They have to wait until they are ready (read in a position in which they are emotionally brave/safe enough) to come out and begin dating before they can learn the hard way like their straight peers did years before.  That's why some gay people go through many partners and settle down later in life if at all, not necessarily because they are promiscuous.

A slow internet connection has to be one of the more frustrating things in our technology dependent society.  I'm currently writing from my parent's house, which has limited internet connectivety.  My parents only have one computer and, being that I no longer live at home for most of the year, they have not seen the need to invest in a wireless router.  Therefore, if I am to enjoy cableless browsing and blogging, I am forced to borrow wifi from the neighbors.  If you ask me, they're asking for it, considering that they have not completed the simple task of adjusting the security preferences on their connection.  I do, however, wish that my pirated connection was a little speedier, but beggars can't be choosers.

A Book Review

It might seem strange for my first post to be a review of someone else's work, but you can't be a writer if you're not a good reader, right?

After having worked two summers in Western Nebraska, I now have a special place in my heart for (for lack of a better term) country-folk.  I have a new-found respect for country lifestyles, country people, and country music.  This, along with my interest in GLBT studies, prompted me to read Chely Wright's book entitled Like Me: Confessions of a Heartland Country Singer.  Once I opened it, I couldn't put it down until I finished it yesterday.

For those of you who've been living under a rock, Chely has been in the news a lot over the past few months, having just come out as the first openly gay country music star.  In her book, I find much to admire, but one facet of her narrative struck me in particular.  Although her book is essentially all about her newly publicized homosexuality, Chely found a way to use that part of her life to provide context to her anecdotes, without overshadowing them.  Chely also doesn't commit the compositional sin of using her life to preach or somehow attack those who disagree with her.

Furthermore, you don't have to be gay to find comfort in Like Me.  Chely Wright and other famous actors and musicians who write memoirs often share a special secret with bottom dwellers like us: Famous people are just like us and they have the same problems; they have struggled with money, family, friends, and sexual identity.

A final word on the book: In the opinion of this blogger....God (Goddess, Buddah, Allah,  etc.) bless Chely Wright.  Young people today (gay and straight) are so lucky to have people like her sharing their stories with us.  I wish I had her book a few years ago.  I might have been braver.

Like Me: Confessions of a Heartland Country Singer.  Buy it and read it.

Preface

So, I'm starting a blog.  Why?

As of late, my hobby of writing has fallen by the wayside, and I fear that my skills will begin to atrophy if I don't start again soon.  I figure that if I'm writing daily (or at least weekly) I won't get rusty.  Couldn't I just keep a journal?  Probably, but where's the fun in that?  Besides, if my stuff is on the web, I'm held at least marginally accountable.

I'm hoping that this blog becomes, for me, a means of expression, reflection, and discovery of myself and of my writing.

Who am I?

Until May I can still call myself a college student studying the arts of Theater and English.

I'm a stage manger, a technician, a writer, a reader, a talker, and a listener.




Disclaimer: Take it easy on me if I let a few typos and grammatical errors slip through.  This is the internet in the year 2010.  Sometimes technology, fatigue, and lack of adequate proofreading time let us all down.