Wondering...

I love watching first dates. Good ones. You see a couple across a coffeehouse, the thrill and anxiousness in their eyes, bated smiles, precise body language. One of them, arms crossed, guarded. They talk, they smile, joke, laugh, sometimes ineffectively. There's an uncomfortable pause or two, and the desperate attempt to try and reel each other back in...

Then, a slight move closer. Maybe a lean forward, one of them placing their chin in their palm, gazing a little more intently into each others eyes. The uncomfortable silences turn into quiet moments. Contented smiles...

Their feet slide closer under the table and "accidentally" touch, testing the waters. Conversation continues. "Accidentally" turns to deliberate, and their legs touch each other knowingly beneath the table. A blush...

At some point there'll be a bold move to touch the others hand, softly, ever so subtly at first. A finger caresses the top of a hand. Unrehearsed, hands are being held. The couple sinks into the moment, eyes fixed, drawing the other in. The corners of their mouth uncontrollably curve upwards. Promise lingers in the air...

Leaving the coffeehouse, there might a light touch to the small of the back. Perhaps a brush of the shoulder. Another blush...

I imagine the couple after leaving the coffeehouse. Later, perhaps, a kiss... a caress... a muffled desire to do more, but holding back. The lingering in a doorway, not wanting to say goodnight...

The drive home, alone. Calm, yet excited. Almost bursting. Waiting... hoping... for tomorrow's call. The promise of a second date. The anticipation of seeing each other again. Wondering...

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The music that completes today's look is "Unusual You" by Britney Spears.

Out of the Cocoon

I have never really had a lot of friends.

Due to various trust issues with past friends, lovers, and family, I have always chosen to have one or two really close, good friends. I have not previously strayed into the arena of having a large group of friends, never affording myself the luxury of opening myself up to the possibility of finding more than a few good people that could positively impact my life.

My ex of 12 years and I were in a virtual cocoon. We really became everything to each other. While in some respects that is good, it created a world where we relied on each other for laughter, entertainment, love and acceptance. It left no room for outside interests, opposing viewpoints, personal growth, or camaraderie from anyone other than each other. Of course, as the relationship began to unravel, the acceptance and self-esteem fell by the wayside, and there was no one to help recreate that self-image that I once had. When the relationship ended last year, I found that I had no idea who I was as a person. I didn't know the simplest things, like what hobbies I enjoyed. I has lost my sense of self. I had lost my self-esteem. I was missing the feeling that I was wanted. I also found myself without my best friend, and quite without but a few others.

Over the past few months I have been re-discovering myself and who I am as a person. I have opened myself up with a new credo of "I have to trust you unless you give me a reason not to." I have spent so much energy in the past consciously -- and unconsciously -- worrying about whether it was safe to open myself up and allow others to get to know me, to accept me, and to love me for me. Allowing that wall of unsurety to come down and just accept other people into my life has been an amazing growth experience.

I am a firm believer that everyone enters our lives for a reason. It can be something so simple as just to make us smile. Or it can be to stroke our ego. It can be to make us feel funny, or talented, intelligent, or sexy. It has amazed me lately how much new friends have changed my life and my perception of who I am. I have been lucky enough to meet some wonderful people...

I have a friend who could be my intellectual, emotional, verbal, and humor twin. Through this sameness I have come to appreciate how I appear to others. This has given me acceptance of myself and what I have to offer to those around me.

I have a friend that I can chat with for hours about everything and nothing. Through him I have learned to slow down in a moment and appreciate it for it's beauty.

Another friend has opened my eyes to a world of sexual acceptance and understanding. Through him I understand that I am a sexual being and that it is alright to accept the needs and wants that I have, and it is healthy to pursue them.

I have a friend that needs me. He has made me realize that I have something to offer to someone else that can help them heal and grow.

Yet another friend is the complete opposite of what I expect a gay man to be. It has broadened my thinking that being gay is so much more than sexuality. It is about just being yourself and allowing others to see who you really are and to not even think about who you are in the moment -- to just be.

And another new friend gives me positive feedback on my writing, showing me that my dream of being a writer might someday be more than just a dream.

There are others that have made just as significant an impact in my life. These new friends are -- without knowing it -- helping me to discover who I am as a person, outside the cocoon I was hiding in for the past decade. They are challenging me to become myself, accept myself, improve myself, and love myself. Through them I have been able to step out of my comfort zone and do things that I have simply dreamed of for my whole life. It is a far cry from where I was 6 months ago. I am not even close to the person that I assumed I am -- I am so much more. I can only imagine where the journey will take me as I cement the relationships I have now, and make new ones along the way.

Like the old song says, "You gotta have friends..." I have come to understand the value and truth in that statement. Luckily, I've got friends.

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The music that completes today's look is "A Thousand Beautiful Things" by Annie Lennox.

Camouflage

I wanted to share the lyrics to a wonderful song that I just can't stop playing. It's for all of us who accept that we have flaws, but are not willing to compromise who we are for someone else. It is called "Camouflage" and is from Brandy's new CD "Human." I have included a link to listen to the song. It's really beautiful.

http://www.playlist.com/searchbeta/tracks#brandy%20camouflage

Camouflage

I'm a work in progress
I'm a seed growing into a flower
I'm a storm that's rising
And getting stronger with every hour
And god knows i ain't perfect
Tell me who in the world is
All i know is that i'm searching
For somebody to love me with

These flaws I've got
They're all a part of who i am
Take me or not
But i finally understand
And I'm so done trying to be everything you want
I had to stop
'Cause baby you ain't worth it
If I've got to camouflage
For love, for love
No i won't camouflage
For love, for love
No I won't camouflage
For love, for love
I won't camouflage

I need a lot of improvement
Not even half way to destiny
But i'm a train that's moving
And everyday i'm picking up speed
And God knows you ain't perfect
So who are you to put pressure on me?
That's why i'm still searching
For somebody to love me with

These flaws I've got
There all a part of who i am
Take me or not
But i finally understand
And I'm so done trying to be everything you want
I had to stop
'Cause baby you ain't worth it
If I've got to camouflage
For love, for love
No i won't camouflage
For love, for love
No I won't camouflage
For love, For love
I won't camouflage

I've learned from my mistakes
The only way you're gonna be happy
Is if someone's down to take you
When it's good and when it's bad you see
I tried giving half of me
In then end I came up empty
And that's why i'm searching
For somebody to love me with these flaws

These flaws I've got
There all a part of who i am
Take me or not
But i finally understand
And I'm so done trying to be everything you want
I had to stop
'Cause baby you ain't worth it
If I've got to camouflage
For love, for love
No i won't camouflage
For love, for love
No I won't camouflage
For love, for love
I won't camouflage

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The music that completes today's look is...D'uh (see above). LOL!

Paper Planes

It's funny how things work. I had been fretting all day about what I was going to write about, and nothing. I tried letting my mind go, I tried focusing, I even tried to think in depth about everything that crossed my mind today. But nothing...

I was having a particularly bad "poor me" day. But, in true fashion, I always find that when I think I have it bad, there's always somebody who has is worse. I was flipping channels after work and I stopped on The Ellen DeGeneres Show. She was having 8 survivors of US Airways flight 1549 that crashed into the Hudson River on January 15, 2009. I decided to watch, as I was working that day -- and I never watch the news -- and was not familiar with the details of the crash.

I expected the usual somber, tearful mood, as the survivors told their stories. But I was shocked when the guests were introduced and walked onstage to the thumping dance beats of "Survivor" by Destiny's Child, each one beaming and kid-like, dancing to the R&B beats as if it were a house party. This immediately touched me. Here I was expecting sad, and what I got was joy, laughter, and frivolity. The 8 men and women danced out onstage, one of them holding his hands out, pretending to be an airplane gliding. Another sailed paper airplanes into the audience as he, too, danced his way over to receive his welcoming hug from Ellen. This immediately brought tears to my eyes (as a matter of fact, I'm a little weepy recalling the scene). I don't know who was responsible, whether it be the producers of the Ellen show, Ellen herself, the energy in the air, or just the joy of the survivors to be alive, but I thought it beautiful that these people were celebrating their escape from death, rather than wallowing in the tried-and-true talk show downer.

The interviews were amazing. Each person recounting their memories of the 2 minutes that the plane was in the air before crashing into the Hudson River -- the explosion...the flames shooting from the engine...the shifting of the plane...the sound of the second engine shutting down. They described the "absolute eerie silence" as the plane seemed to effortlessly glide down towards the river, no one certain what was happening. Then hearing the captain simply say, "Prepare for crash landing." The story should've been told nervously, by wrinkled brows, and sullen eyes. But all 8 of these people smiled, laughed, cajoled, and joked. It was amazing... I found myself smiling with them.

Then Ellen asked if any one of them thought, or had time, to call anyone during the short descent. Most said that there was just no time. But a young woman, pretty and blond, said that she took out her Blackberry and managed to type a message to her husband containing just 4 simple words: "My plane is crashing." I immediately started crying as I imagined getting a message containing those 4 words from a loved one -- the fear, the heartbreak, the devastation. The woman said that she was prepared to die and knew that in the aftermath her husband would be frantic wondering if she, indeed, was on the plane. She said that she wanted him to know for certain that she was...

In the midst of the storytelling, one of the gentleman's wife, who was seated in the audience, told of how she had been watching Ellen's show when the program was interrupted for a breaking news story. She told of how annoyed she was that they cut in in the middle of a part of the show she was really enjoying. Then she told of the shock as she realized that the news story was about the crash, and that her husband was on that flight. It was the first time that the mood sank, as the gentleman's face went, for just a split second, from smiling, to tearful...

The show culminated in Ellen giving each of the 8 survivors a 7 days cruise for two, and what I thought was the icing on the cake: Ellen presented each of them with a t-shirt that altered her "laugh.dance.change" motto to state "laugh.dance.float." I found it to be brilliant!

Needless to say, my "poor me" mood had no where to run but away. Here were 8 people that faced what they all assumed was certain death, only to survive and tell their stories with all of the joy and laughter that could be imagined. It lifted my spirit and, just for a minute, made me a better person.

So today's post is a thank you to the Ellen DeGeneres Show for giving us what was least expected from the re-telling of disastrous moment-- joy... laughter... hope...gratefulness.

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The music that completes today's look is "Survivor" by Destiny's Child in appreciation for the survivors of US Airways flight 1549 for showing me that my struggles are never as bad as they seem.

What Becomes a Man

I never had anyone to show me how to be a man.

My parents divorced when I was three years old. I only saw my father once after the divorce, when I was eight. I heard from him only once after that, at twenty-seven. I grew up never really missing having a father. I have always credited my mother with doing a superb job raising me so that I never really needed a father. I don't think I ever gave any thought to the fact that there was a presence missing from my life, an influence that should've been there, but for whatever reason, was not.

The first time I ever missed having a father was when I went away to college. I can remember my first night, in my dorm, crying to my new roommate, adrift because I had no idea how to act like a man. I was surrounded by a campus full of other men who, I assumed, had a fatherly influence and took away from that how to walk, talk, act, and be like a man. I was missing that experience. I felt lost. Not knowing how to act like a man is hard. Not knowing how to act like a man when you are gay is overwhelming. I struggled through, burying the fear and unknown -- as I had done with so many things in my young life -- until it was accepted and not thought about again. Until now...

So, here I am today, a 42 year old man. I know that I am a man. Everthing in my consciousness tells me that I am a man. But how did I get here? How did I become a man? What makes a man a man? Is it having reached the age of twenty-one? Is it having responsibility, a job, bills, others who depend on him? Is it self-awareness? Is it knowing that you are drastically different than the opposite sex? Or is it simply the basic biology of a male homo sapien - facial hair, chest hair, rugged features, a penis..? For me, up to now, I have just been accepting that I was a man because that's what I was told I am. I have never stopped to think about what exactly has made me a man, what has made me the man I am today.

I have recently begun a journey of self-awareness. I have been trying to discover who I am as a person. What activities do I enjoy? What do I require in those I call "friend?" Accepting the body that I have. Being able to admire what I see in the mirror. How I express myself as a person -- vocally, in writing, and in what is unspoken. Becoming comfortable in my own sexual skin, accepting what gives me pleasure, and allowing myself to ask for what I want to make me feel good. Knowing that I can stimulate a partner, mentally, physically, sexually. In this journey I am becoming to understand what makes this man a man.

This is what I know:

I have my beliefs. I believe that everything happens for a reason. I believe that karma exists. I belive that good can be found in everyone and in every situation, sometimes you just have to look closely to find it. I believe that there is may be a higher power, though I do not belive it was the one I was raised to believe in.

I have my needs. I need to be heard. I need to make a positive change in this world, no matter how small in may be. I need the company of friends, friends who accept me unconditionally for what, and who, I am. I need to accept myself, flaws and all. I need to keep close the traumatic things that have happened to me in life, because I now understand that without them I would not be who I am today. I need to feel wanted.

I have my desires. I desire to leave this world having made an impact that will be remembered. I desire to make a living as a writer. I desire to be the type of person who can go to the closet, pull out anything, put it on and leave the house feeling comfortable that I look good. I desire to have the self-acceptance and sense of self to not worry about what others think of me. I desire a partner that loves me unconditionally, allowing me to be my own person, but wanting me with him whenever possible. I desire to be asked for my autograph. I desire the winning lottery ticket (LOL!). I desire... to be desired.

I know that these things make me human. Do they make me a man? Well, these things are me, and I am a man. So, in part, yes. But I think that becoming, and being, a man is an ever-changing experience. What makes me a man today may make me more -- or less -- of a man tomorrow. The trick is discovering what it is in myself and my life that makes me the man I am, and how I can alter those things to make me a better man, and the man I want, and need, to be.

I have an idea of who this man is and who I need, and desire, him to be. As my journey of self-discovery progresses I hope to understand why I went through life without that male influence that could've made becoming a man easier. But as I stated earlier, I believe that everything happens for a reason. Maybe if I had had a father, I would never have had the opportunity I have now -- to discover myself and who I am. Maybe I would've been just as adrift having become a man the "traditional" way. Maybe I would still be questioning what makes a man a man.

All I can do now is take a deep breath and accept what I know this man to be. Then exhale and become the man I will be tomorrow...

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The music that completes today's look: "Wild Is The Wind" by Nina Simone.

Yours? Mine? Ours!

I find myself in an odd place in the world today. Everyone I have talked to is so excited about the inauguration of our new President, Barack Obama. I've been invited to parties to watch the event, parties to celebrate the event, and I've gotten multiple emails and Facebook messages expressing excitement over this momentous day. One of those messages asked how excited I was about today. My response of, "Oh, you mean the inauguration? I've been working and didn't really give it a thought," elicited shock and awe. How could I not be following the live coverage with bated breath? How could I not be overcome with excitement over what was happening..?

I have not been caught up in the moment like it seems everyone else has. Truth be told, I don't really get into politics. Granted, this was the first election that I actually got excited about, mainly due to the fact that Hillary Clinton was running for President. Once she did not receive the party nomination, I lost interest. It saddened me, because I was finally interested in politics -- something I have historically not ever done -- and following the debates and media coverage. But once she got out of the race, my interest waned. Eventually my interest fell to nil, and I stopped following the race altogether.

It seems that everyone I know thinks that I should be somersaulting with excitement because of the election of Barack Obama. I am excited, as it means the end of the "W" era and a chance to have a Democrat in the White House again. But it should be understood that he was not my candidate. Yes, I voted for him. But he was not my candidate, not my first choice. I voted for him because I wanted a Democrat in office. Do I think he will do a good job? Yes. Do I think that this is a momentous occasion, having a black man elected to President of the United States? Yes. Should I jump up and down, and clap, and brim over with excitement, treating this as better than any other inauguration day? For me, no.

I am proud of the fact that we have elected a black man as President. I am in awe that we, as a country, chose someone who, in reality, most thought was against all odds of being elected. I am thrilled that this huge step will hopefully open doors to other civil rights issues and struggles that are going on here and abroad. That is what we should be focusing on.

It should not matter if the Presidential choice was yours, mine, our ours. It should matter that we have elected the better candidate, that we have elected the man who will, hopefully, bring about positive change, and that we have elected an idea that no matter who you are and what your struggle, there is a day out there for you. When that day comes is something that we all have decide. We have to work together to make sure that every person has their dream fulfilled -- with dignity, with respect, with acceptance. We have to work to make sure that we can all say, "This is my country. This is my world. I belong."

Judged...?

I find it odd that I chose a Monday to write my very first blog posting. Monday's have been difficult lately, as I seem to be in an anti-sleep fog throughout the entire morning. I think the busy work and social schedule I have created for myself lately culminates in a sleep-deprived Sunday night. Upon waking on Mondays, I feel like I just need more rest. I try various things to shock me out of my haze -- water, caffeine, exercise, but none of it seems to help. I'd try blaming the cycles of the moon, but I don't think that would hold much water, as it happens every Monday, and I'm sure the moon has better things to do with it's cycles on Sunday nights than to keep me from sleeping.

Knowing this, of course, I should've thought to myself, "You know you're not your best on Mondays, so create your blog tomorrow." But I have been putting this off for a while, wanting to make sure that my first blog entry was witty, somewhat deep, and made a thought-provoking point. Not sure if I'll succeed, but we'll see.

I think my unrest last night was due to a thought that kept rattling around my mind: Why do we, as friends, judge the people that our friends date by our own standards and prejudices? And why do we allow ourselves to worry what people will think of the people we go out with?

I went out on a date with a young man last night that I typically would not consider "my type." Now, I put "my type" in quotation marks, because these days, I'm not really sure I have a type as I once did. This guy is very cute, and very sweet. He is, upon his own admission, a geeky guy. Geekiness is new territory for me. I have never gone out with someone who is as ultra-intelligent and eloquent as this guy is. He plays online games, has a love of advanced mathematics, and actually learns new topics, subjects, and theories because they're fun -- not because he has to. He is very thin, wears glasses, and looks like a teenager (and though that might seem like a perk to some, again not something I typically look for). Yet, even though this was not the typical guy I would see myself going out with, there was a connection, and an attraction there for both of us. So, we had dinner together.

We went to a restaurant that was recommended by a friend. When we walked in, lo and behold, the friend that had recommended the restaurant was there with two other mutual friends. I guess the suggestion of the restaurant put it in his mind, so we all ended up, quite by chance in the same place. All throughout dinner, I found myself wondering what my friends were thinking about my date. I kept imagining what they would be saying. Were they judging? Did they think he was cute? Did they like his smile? Did they think he was good enough? Would they approve?

Now what bothered me was the fact that these things were running through my mind. My friends had not given any indication that they did not approve. There was no judgement, as far as I could tell. As a matter of fact, I have not even talked to them today to get any reading at all. For all I know, they had dinner, left, and never thought about my date at all. But yet it bothered me that I even had these thoughts. Maybe it was an internal judgement. Maybe these were the questions I was subconsciously needing to ask myself. Still, I wondered all night if I was being judged and why it mattered what someone else thinks about who I date...?

It seems that we, as a society, are always judging, and allowing ourselves to be judged. We all make catty remarks about what someone is wearing, how their hair looks, what they drive, or how they talk. And yes, we comment on who they date. So why does it matter? If a friend finds someone that they have a connection with, that they are attracted to, would we not want them to explore and be happy? Why do we project our own ratings, standards, and prejudices on other peoples' lives? If that person is content with their choice, why do we feel a need to break that choice down, or point out -- in whatever method we choose -- that their choice was less than acceptable?

Conversely, why does it matter so much what other people think about us? It seems our sense of self hinges on the acceptance of others. Why do we need someone else's approval of who we are, how we live our lives, and the choices that we make. The more pertinent question here is why do I need that approval..?

So, therein lies the probable reason for my lack of sleep: wrestling with the question of why I allow myself to care if I am judged by others. I guess I really can't help it if I am judged by others, but why does it matter to me if I am. What would the outcome be -- changing myself to be something I am not to please other people? If a friend is judging me, are they really my friend..? What would drive them to feel the need to judge my decisions about life, attraction, and love? Is it their own insecurities? Are they jealous? Do they have a need to be accepted, or to make themselves feel better about themselves by tearing others down? It makes me think about the judging that I do and why I do it. Insecurity? Jealousy? A need for acceptance? I think it may be another restless night tonight as I continue to ponder...

So, maybe my belated New Year's resolution (since I haven't made any yet) should be to try and not care what people think of me. To be my own judge. Live for myself, and know that all of my choices are mine and mine alone, and that no one is going to take responsibility for them but me. Easier said than done, I know, but a goal all the same.


So there you have it, my first blog entry. Hopefully there was wit in there somewhere. Hopefully the subject required a bit of deep introspective thought on your part, if only for a moment. Hopefully you weren't bored senseless. Hopefully you'll be back to read more. Wait, why do I care? Stop judging me!! LOL!

That was my Monday. Wonder what tomorrow will have in store...?