I don't drink

My body hates me less these last two days, although I think the flu is turning into more irritating than infectious. I'm coughing a lot and there is too much mucus for me to take. WebMD suggests Lupus, I concur, bring on the meds.

Anyway, St Patricks day on wednesday was met with some interesting news. I decided to lift my ban on drinking! I did it over a year ago because I didn't have money and drinking was making me feel stupid. So I stopped drinking and thought it would be better for me in the long run.

The problem with this wasn't a lack of will power, in fact for the first time not drinking was as easy as not buying drinks. I didn't even crave it. I did however start to feel like I was isolated. For whatever reason those little words "I don't drink" precluded a lot of social activities. I could go out with people, but I'd be preceived as something of a wet blanket.

My family was great for it, every function I would be inundated with people offering me drinks.

We've got beer in the fridge downstairs if you'd like...
There's wine on the counter.
I'm making crantini's would you like one?

After each of these offers I responded with some explanation, usually emphasizing that "I don't drink." I began to treat it like something of a joke on their part, like a running gag or something.

My friends never pressured me. They'd mock my cranberry juice at bars, but that's just how we treat each other. Meanwhile they would get quite politely trashed.

As a bartender I got asked what I would recommend, or what I liked to drink here. I said water or tea, jokingly. When I didn't care too much about my sales I lied and said "well I like this beer, or a cosmo! playing up on alcohol and being fabulous for the sake of my tips. When I volunteered as a bartender at charity things I had no problems sticking it out behind the bar. In fact I often had more trouble with people offering to relieve me.

Anyway, I started to treat not drinking like a disability and while I still didn't get cravings like many of my friends would, I did begin to miss it. Be it resolved that, I am now drinking again.

I had 2 kilkenny's on st pat's day, which was at a good pace so I didn't even feel at all drunk. I did however feel free.

I suppose I'm an adult, and I can make my own decisions. Outright prohibition, while a good solution to my beer/school/bank woes for a time; but I think that in certain social climes I'll be holistically happier if I indulge in a glass or two.

Just so we're clear, I do drink.

Carry on...

Chronicles of My Gay Superheroes

I've done a lot, God knows I've tried
To find the truth, I've even lied
But all I know is down inside I'm bleeding.

And Super Heroes come to feast
To taste the flesh not yet deceased
And all I know is still the beast is feeding.

And crawling on the planet's face
Some insects called the human race
Lost in time, lost in space
And meaning.

Some rocky horror to kick off tonights post. It's not my favourite song from RH but I'm feeling it right now, not sure why...

Anyway, the post is actually about superheroes, comics, and all things spandex... Tuesday while I was breaking concrete with my group (btw we made black concrete... its pretty epic to see, it looks like obsidian in some places, which incidentally isn't a good thing because it means we screwed our consistancy up) and one of my groupmates said we were making superhero concrete, but no capes or spandex, that's gay... I'm sorry, say again? I corrected him.

Anyway, superheroes, we all played them, whether you were one of the xmen, wished you could turn invisible or simply pinned a towel to your shoulders and pretended to fly, we've all done it. And why not?

The masks, the capes, the power, all fun. I used to play as cyclops, usually because his power just made the most sense. I could blast people from across the room before they got anywhere close to me and that had some wonderful advantages to say, Wolverine's power (look i can cut things, heal, and smell things from far away).

But like many 'mos I really fell for the combination of hot guys and the anonymity and mystique of having a two personas. I suppose it resonated with something even I didn't really know about yet and wouldn't realise until sometime during the second X-Men movie (when Shawn Ashmore came out as a mutant). I laughed at my foolishness, and then I cried a little. Only a little because it had only been a few months since I'd come out to my parents (as a mutant I mean). My friends asked me what was up, and I was like "I HAD THAT CONVERSATION WITH MY PARENTS!"

I think they got it, but they didn't really say much after that because the gay conversations had exhausted themselves by that point. Regardless I laughed and enjoyed it. I thought of myself as a kind of gay superhero after that, but it wasn't until several years later that I actually started reading comics again.

I blame my little brother for it actually, he said Collosus was gay (Ultimate X-Men universe). I read the comic and omfg a real gay superhero... and not only was he a 'mo, but it was realistic. He got all excited because he got asked out by Northstar, and while it was fun to read, the Collosus and Northstar got very little attention. So le shame...

So yes, I missed out on the revelation that Northstar was gay long before Ultimate Colossus ever came out. So by no means is my knowledge of historical gay comic book heroes exhaustive. (I blame my lack of internet and subculture) after some dykes from Buffy and Runaways showed up, I fell for the Young Avengers. Well I fell for Wiccan (nee Asguardian, hehe Ass-Guardian) and Hulkling, such a cute couple, and pretty up front about it from the begining.

Anyway, i feel robbed. These characters should have been there for me. They should have been my own personal saviours in lieu of positive rolemodels/historical figures. I was told that Shakespeare was gay. Great. da Vinci also a reported 'mo. Fantastic. Does that help me?

Not really no. At the time when I needed some affirmation that gay was okay, I didn't have anything. Okay I had Queer as Folk monday nights at 10 (once my family finally got more than 5 channels on our tv anyway) but I had to hide what I was watching. And everytime I heard a "that's so gay" it only got worse. I was alone. I didn't get better until I got much worse, but that's for another time. I suppose my point really came to me when I watched Milk for the first time.

I pride myself on being in the know with gay things. Even enough to talk about it usually and that gives me a handle on what I should know/learn more about. But when I saw Milk... I got angry.

True I cried through many parts of the movie, but in the end I was left sitting and thinking... I had no idea who Harvey Milk was. I had no idea we had a him as one of our heroes. And while it is permissible that I won't learn about every american politician, this was a turning point for Queer History. He was a hero, but he was a hero that I was deprived of. And so now, I continue to sit and think and I still wonder about all the other heroes that I'm missing, about the strength that I needed but was denied, and about those that never are given the chance to love themselves because certain "things" or people are just omitted from history.

I'm angry, I hope other people still are too...

...and I feel fine...

...That's great it starts with an earthquake...

I just can't seem to sleep, i've read for an hour, watched an ungodly amount of television, cooked some soft pasta (which i basically had to eat one at a time), snuggled with the kitty (who is trying to type with me), and now i've just taken some more pills which claim to make me drowsy...

I call bs

Oh well, the pic at the top of this instalment is just something for people to look at...

Played Catan with douche and wanker (former roomates) last night and had a terrific time. I won the first two games and wanker won the last. It was good to have them around because I only ever see them once a month or so.

It's too bad too because we used to be so close! Wanker and I have known each other for about 20 years now and have been more or less best friends throughout that time (by my self-important estimation anyway). Douche and I only started hanging out mid high-school and is one of the few friends from that circle to still hang out with me. I came out to them after much suffering and agonizing (and at the advice of one of the cutest straight people I knew).

So without further ado, I present the true account of my coming out story.

Like I said, it was all because of this one guy. At the time I was still pretty anti-social and when my friend invited me to the local pool I decided why not?

So when his mom picked us up, I was (re-)introduced to someone (L) who used to live in my hometown, but moved away, I hadn't seen him since preschool though. And while he was easily the shortest in the crowd 5'6, he had a certain eccentric flakiness to him which was refreshing (up until this point I was the flake with bad musical taste). We got to the pool, carried on in typical fashion for most guys (which was unusual). Jokes were flying and I regarded this old friend L...

Visual: Dark brown eyes, nice build (black belt and swimmer), cute smile, ear piercings and dirty blonde hair.

I did my best to come out of my shell around him hoping that our friendship would be rekindled and I'd see more of him. We hung out all day (the 5 of us) and afterwards had pizza and played some smash brothers/goldeneye, and the more I talked to L the more I wanted him. Creepy? Perhaps, but you would've done it too.

When it came time to leave, I inquired about his email address so we could chat on msn and 'stay in touch'. Once he had left, (I stayed over at Wanker's house with Douche) I felt the tell tale signs of loss. I knew it wouldn't work (even if he was gay) I fell out of step with the others while doing my best to be in the moment. During a break in the action I went online (added L) and started talking to my dear friend Meg. She and I had a lot of fun together and I think my friends were trying to start something between us (had I been any less depressed/sure I was gay I probably would have).

And in a moment of despondancy I came out to her. Not my best friend, and not a terribly close friend even, but someone whose company I enjoyed, and I impressed upon her that I wasn't out yet (it was a small town, lot's of farmers). She said cool and I dont think we talked about it again until much much later.

ANYWAY, on a roll from that, I wrote L an email. I didn't save this email, but I remember a lot of it...

I told him that I had a great time today, that over the summer we should make an effort to hang out more. Then I put it all out there. I told him just how depressed I was and that today was one of the first times in a while that I didn't feel it. I told him that I think he had something to do with that. Then I told him that I think it was because I liked him. (I rounded it out with a lot of apologies about being messed up and understanding that he prolly isn't gay and regardless it would probably destroy me if my secret got out to my friends so I asked him not to say anything)

Kindly, he addressed the depression, he said he understands such things and related some of his own problems to me. He said he wasn't gay, but it didn't matter to him how I felt because blah blah blah and he basically made my life. He singlehandedly gave me the inner strength to not hate myself for being gay (which was a big deal because up until that point I had had some encounters and that it had left me feeling dirty.

We did hang out again a few weeks later and the whole time he kept dropping into conversation hypothetical situations about gay people (in a non-threatening way) like if your friend happened to be gay...

I could've kissed him, but remembered that no, he's straight :P

My friends were pretty good in their answers but rather than coming out to the other three of them, I would wait until I wasn't in the hot tub w/ them... So about a week later L called me and we talked about their answers and wondered if I was going to be able to tell them. And the next day I wrote two of them an email telling them that i was depressed (without explaining just how dire it was) and that the reason was because i'm a big 'mo.

And they didn't skip a beat. They had some odd questions to ask me and said it didn't matter to them, that we were friends... I miss wanker and douche.

To me, it's funny that this person whom I barely knew was able to (essentially) save my life.