To Whom It May Concern

If you're reading this right now, I mean anyone at all, whether you've commented on my blog before or if you're just passing through...

I have a question for you.

If I moved to Canada, would that be giving up and admitting defeat?

I love my country, my country that hates me. I love Canada too, but it's not my home.

I'm giving strong consideration to finishing off undergrad, applying to graduate programs in Canada and applying for permanent residence in Canada.

Is that giving up?

Please, I need an objective opinion. You may not know me (though if you read my blog, you certainly know a great deal about me), and you may not care to know me, but I need you advice, as an objective party.

Thanks in advance.

- Rachel

Maine... I Can't Believe You!

Epic fail in Maine yesterday. And across the country, as far as I'm concerned.

How can we continue to deny an entire population our rights as human beings, our ability to live freely and pursue happiness?

How can the Catholic Church throw MILLIONS of dollars into the hands of BIGOTS, when there are hungry who need to be fed and naked who need to be clothed? HOW CAN THIS BE?

What the HELL is going on in this world and why the HELL are gay people so scary??

Just because we want to be happy too?? Is that why we're scary??

Well a big F YOU to Maine and everyone who threw their money at the bigots and everyone who voted against equality, because gay people have money too, and we WON'T be spending it in your effing state. We'll go to Vermont, or Massachusetts, or Connecticut, or New Hampshire, or Iowa, or Canada, where freedom rings and rings and rings and won't be silenced.

We WON'T be silenced. Last summer was the LAST time I paid a visit to Maine, the absolute LAST time. I'm never going back to Maine until EVERYONE is equal and until my rights are as important and valued as any heterosexual.

I'm so angry I could just about spit.

A Giant Leap for Equality

I was at church this evening for my last service before heading across the pond. I gave my pastor a great big hug, knowing how much we're going to miss each other and how much I'm going to miss the church community. Pastor is a wonderful man who has taught me so much about living my life as a spiritual person, his retirement in February is going to be one of the hardest losses of my life. He can't step foot in the church for five years after he retires, which is a church rule in order for the new pastor to become familiar with the congregation. I sure am going to miss him though, but when I get back from London I'll be church shopping near the new apartment. Hopefully I'll be lucky enough to find a congregation as warm as the one I am leaving behind, but no one will ever be able to replace pastor.

It took me a while to get out of church tonight, as everyone was talking with me about London and wishing me well and I was saying my goodbyes. Mom said she thought pastor was getting a little misty when he was saying his goodbyes to me, and I wouldn't doubt it because I was too. I cried like a baby as I drove myself home tonight. I haven't gone four months without going to church since I was baptised.

However, I wasn't so much crying because I am going to miss pastor, the congregation, the feeling I get when I sing a hymn or look up at the cross in the pulpit. Pastor told me, as I was leaving, that the church (the Evangelical Lutheran Church of America) recently (this week!!) voted to stop discriminatory practices in regard to sexual orientation. That means that gays and lesbians are now able to be married in the church by an ordained Lutheran minister, gays and lesbians can serve openly as ordained ministers AND be in committed relationships with their spouses. Previously, gays and lesbians could serve as ordained ministers BUT they had to be abstinant, and church policy was that gay and lesbian commitment ceremonies or weddings wouldn't be church sponsored.

This is the. best. news. EVER! I'm so happy for the church, it literally made me weepy, so my tears were a mix of sadness at leaving and happiness that the church is finally entering the 21st century (they skipped right over the 19th and 20th and moved right into the 21st! big steps for a conservative, old fashioned organization). This bodes very well for my interest in becoming a pastor, something I need to discuss with my pastor when I get back from London. I love research and psychology but I've always felt called to serve God and it's not something I can deny. I'm just glad I no longer have to choose between serving God as an ordained individual and being true to myself. I'm also relieved that, if I want to, I can be married in my own church by my own pastor and have a marriage recognized by my church.

It's a wonderful feeling to be accepted. Somewhere in heaven Jesus is saying "now stop persecuting the homos and start feeding the hungry!"

Don't Look Back in Anger

I can't stand this volatile relationship my mother and I have. I just plain can't stand it anymore.

As I get older I'm able to piece together and reflect on the damage she's done to me over the years (being a psychology major only makes my introspection worse).

A few weeks ago she accused me of not liking Naveen, which she does on a regular basis. I love Naveen, like a brother (or at least I did before the whole dabacle on my birthday), and so naturally I defended the fact that I do like Naveen, it's their relationship I have a problem with. I'm sorry but my 50-something year old mother should not be doing a 20-something year old man's laundry, giving him her brand new laptop, making his lunches for him, etc. etc., it's not a friendship it's her babying him, but that's a long story for another day.

On this particular occasion I guess my mother decided she needed to get a good jab in and take me down a few pegs, so she said something to the affect of "you don't like him because he is Indian (obviously I'm racist, and if that wasn't offensive enough), or maybe it's because he's a man. The only people you care about are gay people and the only things you care about are gay issues."

It's taken me some time to reflect on this, because it cut me REAL deep. If my mother bothered to get to know me, she'd know I'm not really big into gay issues. I'm more of a big picture kind of girl. I'm really into human issues. I care about everyone who takes a minute to talk to me, if I've met you there's a good chance I care about you. I don't really have any gay friends, most of my friends are straight (by choice for the most part, because gay kids in college are filled with drama, and I, clearly, get enough drama at home). My first best friend from college is a guy, he's a great guy and I love him a great deal. Almost all of my friends are girls, but that's only because my school is predominantly female. But I guess the fact of the matter is I shouldn't have to justify myself in terms of my mother's hurtful remark. She wanted to get a good jab in, and she did. I'm not sure if she can even comprehend the amount of damage she did to me by saying that.

Ever since she said that I've been wondering to myself about being gay. Do people assume that since I'm gay all I care about are gay things? I can't care about anything other than being gay? I mean, I started the GSA at my school, but I did that honestly because I firmly believe that the school is better off having a safe and welcoming outlet for GLBTQ students rather than having to deal with depressed/suicidal students who have no outlet and no way of expressing themselves. It's all about student retention. But I'm not all about being gay. I'm all about being me, and doing well in school, and getting into graduate school and figuring out what the heck I want to do with my life. I'm pretty normal and boring when you get right down to it.

But what if people think I'm just gay? What if they don't see that I'm Rachel too, and I like to play the violin and I'm happiest when I'm surrounded by my friends laughter. What if they think all I am is gay, and they don't know that when I get cut I bleed too. That's the scariest part of all of this. Does my mother think all I am is gay? That I'm nothing more than a gay kid now and I am so uninterested in the rest of the world that it might as well not even exist to me.

It makes me so sad. To think I might mean nothing. To think I might mean nothing to the woman who made me something. It helps me understand why so many GLBTQ kids kill themselves. When the people you love the most in the world make you feel worthless, what else is there?

I wonder if she'll ever know how much she hurt me, or if she'll ever care.

Just have to keep moving I s'pose. Chin up and all that good stuff. Hope everyone else is having a safe, happy and productive week. This weekend is the family reunion, wish me luck.

Grad Schools in Canada

My Uncle on Newfoundland always told me that if the U.S. reinstated the draft, I'd always have a place on the rock where I could go hide. I'm not one for hiding, but I'm also not one for participating in unjustified conflicts, and unless someone is waving a gun in my family's face there is very little that could provoke me to use violence. Besides the fact that I'm an avid pacifist, I also don't believe in fighting for a country that doesn't allot the same rights to me and people like me based on inconsequential circumstances.

I guess I had a lot more faith in Mr. Obama, that he would do more for the community. Takes our votes... then forget about us. Sickening really. I wouldn't get the chance to fight for this country even if I wanted to, because I can't be who I am. I'm sure I could tote a gun just as well as any other person out there. A friend of mine in the Army told me that I should join up and go into the ministry in the Army, that they had a shortage of ministers and they needed more (she was drunk when she told me this, and I had to chuckle a little because... well the Army wouldn't want someone like me. If you tell me the sky is blue, I'm probably going to argue that's it's really more of an off-purple hue. Not to mention the fact that I'm queerer than Christmas). Long story short, I could preach the Word out there probably just as well as the next guy. I'll tell you all about Yahweh and God and Allah and Jehovah (all the same dude) and help make your journey through life a little more peaceful. I'd love to give back to my country (even though they hate me for some reason?), but I can't because I can't enlist and remain an out individual.

I have this vision of a country where everyone is free, where we as taxpaying, country-loving, flag waving, American Idol watching citizens aren't forced subscribers to religions that we never chose to be a part of.

And, like I said to my mother when she asked about the "California thing," this country was founded by queers, you can't even tell me the founding fathers weren't a bunch of homos (no offense intended at all, I happen to be a proud American and I know my history very well, I also know that, more often then not for the better part of the history of most civilizations: men prefered the company of men and women, the company of women).

I guess what I'm trying to say is, this country is really cutting off its nose to spite its face, for lack of a better expression. I don't want to raise a family here when I could pack of my little car and haul it off to Canada where my rights are the same as the heterosexual next door. But I don't want to leave the country where I was born and raised, where my family lives (mainly), where my friends are and likely will remain.

I'm glad Connecticut and Massachusetts (the only two states I give a crap about, sorry to the other 48) have granted marriage equality, but it's just not enough. When my rights are different when I travel to Florida, something is not right. When my relationship with the person whom I love is not equivalent to a heterosexual relationship simply because I can't procreate with my partner of choice, something is not right. When my country tells me to get lost when I try to live my life the way I choose to live my life, hurting no one (in fact, I try to help out as much as possible in order to make life better for people), something is not right.

I just want to graduate from college, go to graduate school, become a Licensed Mental Health Clinician and eventually get my PhD (or PsyD as they're calling it these days for us psych geeks) and just... help people. I want to get married to a nice, soft spoken, warm hearted, charming girl who will make me laugh every day and who I can make laugh too. I want to have a kid or two and watch them learn new things, make mistakes, learn to love this beautiful world and this wonderful life. I just want to be as financially, emotionally and physically secure in my relationship with another human being (and eventually bringing more human beings into the picture), and I don't think that's too much to ask of this life or this world, or particularly this country where we're supposedly "free."

Sorry this is long and probably very disconnected, but I needed some time to process the "California thing" (as my mum calls it).

Protest Protest Protest

The thousands of protestors


I was getting nervous just watching them up there


LOL


Supportive Mormons<3


THE GAYS LOVE YOU TOO WELLESLEY!!


A small child there with his fathers with the cutest umbrella ever


More people


The pre-rally lull

The protest in Boston was nothing short of a supreme success for the community. There were congresspeople, senators (Ted Kennedy wasn't there, sadly, but he was definitely there in spirit), community organizers, students, husbands, wives, mothers, fathers, friends, family, everyone. Everyone was there in love and support. The feeling of being among friends was truly overwhelming. The rain couldn't keep us away.

As we borded the t, going back to our corners of Massachusetts and the world, there was a sense of completeness. We had sung and danced and chanted. Our voices were heard. We're mad as hell, and we're not going to stand for it. This is something bigger than ourselves, bigger than just us. This is for us, this is for our families. This is for the ones who came before us whose voices were never heard, and the ones who will come, in the hopes that they will use their voices, that they will speak out against injustice. This is so that the world will see that we aren't just bigots here in this country, and we aren't silent either. We can't be scared back into the closet. We aren't going away.

There are more protests to come. The greatest gift we can give to the nation that granted us freedom:

Protest. Protest. Protest.

I have over sixty photos of the protest and several videos, which I'll load onto my youtube account sometime soon and post here. Thanks to everyone who went out and protested today.

What a Wonderful Dream

I bought and watched Fried Green Tomatoes last night, which I've seen about a bagillion times on TV but I've never actually sat down and just watched it all the way through. It's a very well done movie and Mary Stuart Masterson is nothing short of drop dead gorgeous.

After having watched the movie, though, I decided I really needed to read the book so I had something to go off of.

OH. MY. GOD. The book is SO good. I work from 5-8 on Thursdays and I literally spent 2.5 hours reading that book, so much so that I didn't even notice when massive amounts of people came in to the student success centre. It's so good, I cannot put it down. Like most novels that are turned into movies, the movie is nothing like the book. I feel like, in many ways, the two could stand alone.

The Ally Panel went extremely well! We had three lesbians, one gay man, one bisexual, one questioning person, and an entire audience of all different genders, races, faiths, perceptions and orientations. Everyone who was there said it was a great success and they look forward to more in the future. According to many people in the audience they learned a lot, particularly about the support that GLBTQ people need. One girl told me she had no idea of how difficult it really is for GLBTQ youth, and her perception was changed. She also voted for McCain, which is an indicator of what's going on (or not going on) in her head.

I'm still really excited about the protest on Saturday, but people seem to be nervous about it. Why is everyone so nervous, people rallied all the times in the 60's and 70's and eventually were granted their rights. My best friend told me, and I quote to "run as though you are being chased by zombies" (because she knows about my unnatural fear of zombies as a result of watching far too many horror movies with Molly cause she thinks she is oh so hardcore, and I know you're reading this right now Molly) in the event that something goes down.

My mother (who is being slightly douchey for some reason lately, and I'm just going to assume she is wicked stressed at work at that I didn't somehow screw up again per usual) is worried about the rally, but she said she was going to go in to Hartford to see if there was one there this weekend (doubtful, Hartford sucks when it comes to things like this). She gets very testy when I talk about the GSA, and she has no interest at all in hearing about what is going on with the club I created, or in the life I am living in reality. She just skims the surface. But that's her I guess.

They brought up the issue of coming out to parents at the ally panel, and as much as I didn't really discuss it because it is a little too fresh for me, I did say that there was a palpible sense of relief when I came out to my mother and my sister. I know they both knew and were perhaps waiting for me to come out to them, perhaps waiting for me to bring a girl home, perhaps waiting for me to become a nun. Whereas my sister's relief turned in to happiness; happiness that I am happy in the life I am leading and the relief I have personally found in being myself, my mother's relief turned in to a kind of anger that I can't quite put my finger on. She doesn't want to talk about it, and it is very obvious. Maybe she is angry that she let me turn nineteen before she discussed this with me. Maybe she is angry that I even came out in the first place, or that she wasn't the first person I told. I'm not sure what her issue is, I can't understand her for the life of me.

I feel like my blogs always kind of take on a negative vibe but I totally do not mean for them to do that at all. It's hard for me to make things funny here because most of the funny things that go on in my life are inside jokes and would make absolutely no sense to anyone else. For example, when I ran to the bathroom tonight because I was literally about to pee my pants from laughing so hard at an impression my best friend at school did of a chick who lives down the hall from her. It was by far the hardest I have laughed in a very long time.

I'll leave you with this, so you can maybe get a sense of the real Rachel

O... Connecticut???

Okay everything needs to slow down and freeze for a hot second.

THE CONNECTICUT SUPREME COURT RULED IN FAVOUR OF LEGALISING SAME SEX MARRIAGE TODAY!!!

oH MY GOD

I was taking a nap in the hotel room in St. John's, Newfoundland this afternoon when I was awoken to my mother saying "Oh my gosh Rachel! Did you hear?"

To which I could only mumble "Uhm, no, I am asleep."

And then she told me that our state, the place I called home for most of my life, where I was born and raised, has come to the conclusion that "love is all you need."

Connecticut has never made me feel insignificant in any way, as a state, or as the town I live in, or the public school system I attended or the jobs I've had or the church I go to. I've always felt that I mattered, that I was a contributing member of society in my own way, just like everyone else I interacted with (or didn't). I feel that everyone matters, and by golly today Connecticut confirmed that conviction.

I wish I were in Hartford right now, so so so bad. If I weren't here for Thanksgiving I would be in Hartford right now decked out in rainbow glory and being riotously loud. All I can say is that Connecticut, you picked a terrible time to do this. Why couldn't you do this when I am home? Alas.

As an aside, Newfoundland is awesome. I'm having a great time, even though local time is a little after 12:30, and I've been up since 4:30 yesterday morning.

The weather was great today, and I went to my favourite spot in St. John's for a bit and then back to my uncle's house for good food and great conversation.

My favourite quote on the evening: On why my Newfie friend should be McCain's VP:
"Forget Palin, we can see fucking Ireland from here!"

Respect

Tomorrow is the 10 year anniversary of the brutal beating of Matthew Shepard.

I don't understand why, or how, things like this can happen.

I don't understand why, or how, things like this continue to happen.

October 12 is the 10 year anniversary of Matthew's death.

10 years, brief, full of change and tumult and joy.

And it saddens me that, under our current administration, anyone who isn't a heterosexual, upper middle class white man, is for all intents and purposes and second class citizen.

Matthew Shepard wasn't a second class citizen. None of us are. Give me the freedom I have under the Constitution. Let me take the freedom I was promised by virtue of my birth, let me hold it in my hands. Give me the freedom to life, to liberty, and to the pursuit of happiness. I'm an American too.

Freedom to me isn't simply the right to breathe, the right to exist, the right to walk freely, to travel freely, to eat good food, to work, to attend whichever school I want, to attend whichever school I can afford. I am free to do all those things and more.

Freedom, rather, is my confidence in my government, in the individuals I elect, in the individuals who represent me, to do my will. I want them to respect me. Is it so hard to respect me?

"The White House"
Claude McKay

Your door is shut against my tightened face,
And I am sharp as steel with discontent;
But I possess the courage and the grace
To bear my anger proudly and unbent.
The pavement slabs burn loose beneath my feet,
A chafing savage, down the decent street;
And passion rends my vitals as I pass,
Where boldly shines your shuttered door of glass.
Oh, I must search for wisdom every hour,
Deep in my wrathful bosom sore and raw,
And find in it the superhuman power
To hold me to the letter of your law!
Oh, I must keep my heart inviolate
Against the potent poison of your hate.

In Case I Didn't Ramble Enough About the GSA

I have to study for an exam in my research methods class, but I'm doing everything in my power to procrastinate. So here I am.

Apparently I have an exam in research methods tomorrow, and two exams on Wednesday (one in statistics and the other in child development). All courses I need to take in order to remain a psych major. Which means I'm kicking myself for not being a carefree English major. I can talk Shakespeare until I'm blue in the face, but all this analytic nonsense is... well... analytic nonsense. I'll do fine though, because I am genuinely interested in the subjects (for the most part... the intricacies of the APA Ethical Code are only so interesting though... but I definitely understand the necessity in it).

I have a meeting of the executive board of the GSA in an hour, which will kill more study time. And then I have to stand guard in the lower student union from 9-midnight in the event that anyone from campus wants a board game or to watch movies on the big screen. But I'll be doing homework that entire time, so it will at least be semi productive.

I got another email expressing interest in the GSA today from a girl I've seen around campus, who I know is painfully not out. I was actually really thrilled that it was from her because I am starting this club with the hope that the GSA will be a safe environment for people coming to terms with their sexuality. I know how hard it is when you're so sure of who you are, but you can't bear to face the reactions of others. This club certainly isn't about outing people, either. I would never out someone, particularly when it is painfully obvious that they aren't ready to be out. But it's so sad to watch. I remember coming to college, already out to several of my closest friends, already completely sure of who I am. I thought I totally accepted myself, and that everyone else would too. Unfortunately, I felt like I couldn't be out at school, and so I didn't tell anyone, until it all reached its boiling point and I had to be out. I don't want that to happen to anyone else, though I know it happens all the time. I want this school to let everyone know that it is okay to be who you are, and that everyone will be appreciated no matter what, which is how I feel now. But it's how I should have felt as an incoming freshman. I guess the long and short of it is I'm trying to spare the freshman some of the tribulations I went though. But I understand that we all need to make our own mistakes, no one else can make them for us, unfortunately.

In any event I'm totally excited about the GSA, in case it's not obvious. Totally not excited at all about three exams in the next two days, but it'll be okay. Everything is always okay.

Ironic Spontaneity Rant Extraordinaire

It seems funny to me that nothing is ever spontaneous in my life. Everything is always planned well in advance, there are no mysteries. I couldn't even come out to my mother spontaneously, I had to carefully plan out not only what I was going to say to her but also all of the potential responses she would have and my reaction(s). I guess it's true, we do turn into our parents. There is no one more overly-analytical than my mother, except for me.

That being said I'm pretty freakin excited about going into Boston to see some small town band play this coming Friday, it should be a great time. And then Saturday is... TEGAN AND SARA! I have been DYING of anticipation all summer for this concert. I will probably faint and cry like a little school girl.

And the following weekend is Canadian Thanksgiving so the madre and I are trekking up to the great white north for family time and home cooked meals mmmm. There is honestly nowhere in the world that I love more than Newfoundland. It's just a brilliant place, beyond gorgeous. It's usually not too cold this time of year, which is good because I'm more of a Florida girl. But Florida doesn't have scenery like this:


or this:


I'm pretty excited about the "upcoming events," if you will.

I was asked to be on the student athlete advisory committee here at school, (the acronym is SAAC, which makes me gafaw every time) which is just another thing to add to my already outrageous schedule. But somehow I am ahead in my work, and currently working on Thursday's assignments... Busting my ass to get stuff done last night was super successful and very productive.

And people are so so so interested in the GSA, which is great and I'm so glad. I was talking to the madre about it yesterday, and I told her I was kind of wary in telling her that I was starting a GSA here. She said I need to trust her, that she is fine with it and I need to cut her a break. She's not going to freak out because she is totally fine with the fact that I am and have always been gay. She's not shocked that I'm gay, she is shocked that I kept it from her.

I guess maybe I'm the one having difficulties here in that, I've known I was gay for so long and I've kept it hidden from her for so long that it is hard for me to be honest with her and to let her into my life. Which is really sad, but I think it's the truth. I can't call her up on the phone and tell her all about the girl I like or what my crazy ex girlfriend did this time or how much it hurts when people say cruel things like "just move to Canada" or when I find out that I am distinguished by my out-ness and not by my personality as a human being.

I think that's the scariest part of being gay and of being out. It's a toss up whether people are going to recognise you for what you contribute to their lives by virtue of your human-ness, or if they are going to see everything you do, everything you are, everything you will potentially do, as being directly influenced by your being gay. Maybe it's just an age thing, maybe college students still haven't gotten a grasp on the fact that very few things are a result of your orientation, your gender, your race, your ethnicity.

I'm starting the GSA at school because I want there to be a safe environment for gay students, supportive students, bi student, trans students, etc. etc. It's too scary to be thrust into college, just when you're starting to be comfortable with who you are. There need to be people here who are approachable and friendly and understanding who have been through it, who know what it's like, and who will listen. We need to do things that prove that we're not just "different," we're fun, active, adventurous, talented, goofy and always learning too. I'm gay, but that's not all there is to me. When people see me walking down the road or sitting in the library or eating lunch with my friends I want them to know I'm not just the gay chick, I'm Rachel, I play lacrosse for Team Awesome, I save frogs and worms when it rains, I love the violin, I try to be insightful in class but often fail miserably, but I'm always smiling, and I have the best movie collection on campus.

I didn't begin writing this for it to turn into a rant about the GSA or about my feelings on out-ness, but I guess that's what it turned in to. C'est la vie. Happy new week, hope it's great all around!

I'm An American Too

I've had a few hours between what happened earlier today and the present that I feel I have enough mental clarity on the issue so as to write about it. It started off as an average Thursday, went to class at 9:30, went to my next class at 11:00, sat through class, had peanut lovers chex mix for breakfast/lunch, and went back to class for lab.

So we're sitting there, shooting the shit getting ready for class to start. Then this kid comes in and starts handing out flyers on the presidential candidates with information about them. So everyone is reading the flyers and not working on the assignment (because it's lab and no one really cares, after all it's only our grade and our most crucial class as psychology majors) and we all get to having a political debate. I, unbeknownst to me, have been sitting in the Republican/too moderate to care/apathetic section of the room. I'll explain.

This guy from the front of the class went to the table behind me and was talking to my friends at the table, telling them all about the wonders of John McCain and what an ass Barack Obama is. I was pretty fed up with the conversation so I tuned out until he said something along the lines of "I don't know why anyone would vote for Barack Obama," which set me off. I couldn't not say anything anymore so I turned around and told him that I was voting for Barack Obama, because besides the fact that the things he takes issue with are the things I believe in, he has never publicly said that he does not want me to be able to have a family some day. John McCain has PUBLICLY said he believes gay people shouldn't be allowed to adopt children, to raise children, to be parents. I told this kid who was running his mouth that I was voting for the candidate who I feel stands the best chance of providing me with a secure future where I can marry whomever I choose and have a family.

To which this student replied "Then move to Canada."

To which I started screaming at him.

To which all of my friends started screaming at him and demanding that he apologise.

To which he said he didn't mean it that way.

To which I responded that I am as much an American as he is and that just because I am gay doesn't make me any less of an American, and certainly does not mean I should have to abandon MY COUNTRY simply because of something I have absolutely no control over.

He started laughing uncomfortably, because everyone was yelling at him and demanding that he apologise, so he did apologise and that was that.

But it still hurts. How day he say that to me, that I should have to leave my homeland simply because I'm gay and my rights aren't acknowledged in this country? I should have to leave. America doesn't want me here. Well I'm AS MUCH IF NOT MORE of an American as that jackass has ever been or will ever be. I love this country, I would die for this country and for freedom. I love Canada, and I am Canadian, but I was born and raised in this country.

Just because I am openly gay, does that mean I have effectively renounced my citizenship? I'm a pacifist and I don't believe that violence solves anything, but I had such a strong desire to jump across the desk and ring his neck. If I could go back and do it again I probably would hit him so hard. I don't know if I'm angrier that he effectively told me that I am less of an American than his pompous ass just because I'm gay, or the fact that I don't think I've ever wanted to physically hurt someone so much and he caused that anger in me. How dare he. How dare he.

How Do I Get Myself In Situations Like This?

Yesterday was kind of a crazy day. I had class from 9:30 until 3:00, with about an hour lunch break between my research methods class and the lab. We had to come up with ideas for a research study, one that we are actually going to conduct. My thesis at this point is that individuals with the perception that they have a strong support system (either from family, society or both) are better able to cope with stress. I'm still working out the kinks but it'm pretty pleased with it, and I found a meta-analysis that is REALLY going to help me out (I almost did a backflip when I discovered it).

Anywho, after research methods and that craziness I went to this woman to talk about studying abroad in the fall of 2009. I'm hoping to study in London, that way I can go all over Europe on weekends and holidays. I really want to study in Italy, but I'll get there if I study in London. I just want to go all over the place, see the world. And it looks like it's actually going to happen!

I was practically doing cartwheels down the hall when I remembered I had to go talk to the activities director. She was my RD last year, and we have a pretty good relationship, so I went to her office and we got to chatting. I was there to ask her if our orchestra (of about 6 people) could play in the tavern some night, since she is in charge of the schedule of activities. She said sure thing, and proceeded to print off the calender for the next three months.

We were chatting while she was printing off the schedule, and I all of a sudden burst off with "Hey, you know what we need here, a GSA!"

I go to a very small Catholic college, complete with nuns and priests and the whole shebang, so I didn't expect my notion to come to fruition.

Until she said "You just made my day!" and she started typing away. "I've been waiting for someone to volunteer themselves to start a GSA FOREVER!"

I wasn't aware I had volunteered myself, but I mean it's cool and all, I'll parent this new club if nobody else will. No lie at all, she was so excited about the fact that I was interested in a GSA that she emailed about a million people, asking them how to go about starting a new club and to get back to ME. I have to write a constitution for the club, go in frot of the student activities panel BY MYSELF and tell them why I want to start this club, how much money I will need, what I plan to do, how I plan to bring back to the community, etc. I need to get names and signitures and people interested in the club. So far I have lots of S's and a few G's who say they will join. I think I need ten people to be official and to get money, etc. But I definitely had no concept of what I was getting myself into. We really do need a GSA though, and I'm more than happy to be the person to start it, I just had no idea that I would be thrust into this position.

So during our, oh probably 45 minute conversation, I was nominated president and parent of the new GSA, the student activities director emailed one of the sisters and told her I am going to join Campus Ministry, I basically was talked into getting an Environmental Club started on campus (because I opened my big mouth and told her I had been president of the environmental club in high school), I was given a phone number to a local philharmonic orchestra that is looking for musicians, I join the activity board for my school (the people who plan everything that goes on around campus) and I got the calender for the next three months so we can decide when we want to play in the tavern (the only reason I went there in the first place).

And I'm double majoring, taking 20 credits this semester, playing lacrosse, planning on studying abroad next fall, trying to get into a seminar next semester that will consume most of my life/go to Italy on spring break. I realised the other day that with my majors, I need three seminars for my English major and I think two for my Psychology major. I'm also in the honors program, which has its own seminar I believe (maybe two seminars, I'm not sure), not to mention community service components and other requirements.

I also got an on campus job the other day tutoring people in writing for five hours a week. Which means I'm making money (albeit not a great deal of money).

And I'm home now, and all I want to do is sleep and forget about the giant mess I am creating for myself to be spread out over the next three years.

But I'm having fun and learning a lot, and that's all that matters right?

Oh and I did something to a muscle (the same muscle) in both of my legs last night at the gym. I don't know what I did or if there is even a name for it, but it hurts, and I'm a fool. Note to self: the hot girl at the gym doesn't care if you can (or in my case, can't) lift a shitload of weight on the leg press. I feel like subconsciously, I am aware of the fact that A LOT of people at my school are nursing majors, and overdoing it at the gym isn't so much masochistic as it is my mind intentionally trying to hurt my body so I have to lay around while the nursing majors take care of me. If only things worked in the real world the way they work in my mind :D

The Missing Pieces

A little over a year ago (so sometime during my senior year of high school) one of my very best friends and orchestra mates left school, left town, and virtually disappeared. I didn't know he was leaving, I don't think anyone was really aware that he was going. One day he was there, happy, playing his viola, enjoying being a junior in high school. The next he was sad, clearly something was wrong. He talked about leaving. And then he was gone.

We didn't talk much. When we did talk, we used the medium of aim. I didn't see him in over a year though. He moved to Boston and unfortunately we couldn't coordinate a time/place to meet.

I talked to him tonight, on aim, for the first time in a while.

There are a lot of things I didn't know, that never even occurred to me.

He was kicked out of his house by his mother. Not just the typical teenage bull. No, his mother made him leave because he is bisexual, and she "hated" him for it.

He had to leave his little home town, suburbia USA and his wee little high school to conquer the big scary world all by himself.

He moved in with his boyfriend in Boston, whom he had met and dated since 2006, unbeknownst to most people. He got a job, signed up for and began attending an urban public school. He became vice president of his senior class and started two new clubs at the school. He got a job in a urban retail store and met a whole new variety of people than the kind you meet in small town USA. He loves his boyfriend, and it's clear that his boyfriend loves him too.

He's back in town now, after graduating from high school (as a member of National Honor Society, no less), being accepted to Boston University and most importantly reconciling with his mother. She realized, after a long enough time, that he is her son and that his happiness is of the uptmost. Isolating him from her will only be detrimental to her in the long run. I'm glad she realized that.

I am sad, and probably will be eternally sad, that he didn't tell me sooner. I would have been there. My mother who knows and loves him would have been there. Our mutual friends would have been there. We would have opened our doors to him in a heartbeat. Of course he has a place in my home, all he would have had to do is ask. Thankfully he made the most of this unfortunate situation, and he has become a stronger and better person for it. He has no hard feelings, he holds no grudge. He is living life to the fullest and enjoying ever second of it.

I could not be more proud of him, more overjoyed for him and his accomplishments. I'm sorry I couldn't have been there for him. I would, had I known.

It's why coming out it so important, and terrifying.

It's just terribly confusing and upsetting. I wish parents could just love their children no matter what. Embrace them no matter what they do, no matter who they are. Loving someone of the same gender is not the same as being an axe murderer or getting straight F's or coming home pregnant. We love someone. Be glad that we love at all.

We've Got Pride, Yes We do, We've Got Pride, How 'Bout You??

June is a GREAT month, in many many ways.

Well, first and foremost, and of uptmost importance to everyone on the planet, June is the month of my birth. Back in 1989 in a log cabin in Hartford, Connecticut two people welcomed into their lives a baby girl who would one day grow to rule the world.

Well, that's the plan anyway. Until then, I was just born in June. Most of us are born and therefore have birth months, June just happens to be mine.

June is also the first full month of summer for those of us who are going to a form of school in the United States (I'm not sure about the rest of the world). The kids are just getting out of school in the lower grades, and us big scary college kids have been out since May, some since April. June is also the first month of summer, when things start heating up, pools are opened, people start leaving their homes and going for walks and having camp fires in their back yards.

June is my favorite month for all these reasons, but also because it happes to be pride month.

I'm proud to say that I've been out and proud for almost a year now (to everyone except my family, but I'm definetly not hiding anything from them).

I remember the first person I came out to, and I remember it happening like it was just yesterday. When the words "I'm gay" slip out of your mouth it's like this enormous weight being lifted off your shoulders. After you tell one person you just want to run around shouting it from the roof tops. I was very hesitant about coming out to other people. I had no idea how they would react, and for a while it was a secret shared between one of my best friends and I.

And then he told another one of my best friends. I got a text message from her late at night, after I had texted her saying I wouldn't be able to hang out. Her text read (and I saved it): "Oh no! :( well then I can tell you that I don't care if you're a lesbian! *hugs*" I turned bright red, because I knew I had been outed, and then I felt a huge sigh of relief, because being outed and it turning out for the best is SUCH a relief.

So at that point in time two of my very best friends knew, and it was hard for them to keep it to themselves because we have a very close knit group of friends who we share everything with. Keeping secrets isn't our style. I went through the rest of the summer between high school and college with a few people knowing, but most importantly with ME knowing. Being sure of something is such a powerful feeling. You feel like you really can do anything when you're absolutely positive.

When I got to college I knew it was going to be a lot harder to pretend to be someone I am not. I made good friends with a group of girls who were completely boy crazy, who talked about nothing else, and therefore drove me insane.

So I drifted from them and discovered a friend of mine, Mark, who became probably my best friend at school. I told Mark, and I also told him that I had a HUGE crush on a friend of ours. Huge. Epic. Head over heels.

Mark was the perfect person for me to tell because he knew it was important, and he also knew I needed to come out because it was hurting me more than it was hurting anyone else.

Prior to telling Mark, I had been living like your average drunken college freshmen. I made two very big mistakes early in the year that could have turned out a lot worse than they did but that definetly helped me grow as a person. Needless to say I was completely sure about my sexuality by the end of the first semester.

Finally Mark decided enough was enough when I ended up crying one night after lying to someone about my sexuality (there was a survey for a sociology class and it asked about sexual orientation and I totally lied). I needed to come out for my own peace of mind.

I started telling all of my friends. Most of them weren't surprised, and they were all VERY supportive and really it didn't change our relationship at all. They were all very supportive when I got a girlfriend. They were even more supportive when I broke up with her because the relationship was not healthy at all. I'm afraid if I had let it go on any longer my friends would have abandoned me, or kicked my ass for dating someone who was not good for me at all. I love my friends very much, and am adamant about the fact that friends, at least at this point in life, are FAR more important than women. Girls will come and go but friends are forever.

I told my best friend over winter break. She was COMPLETELY blown away. Completely. Like the thought never even crossed her mind that I might not like guys. I have dated a lot of guys. Between 7 and 10th grade I was never without a boyfriend. My last two years in high school consisted of me trying desperately to cling to heterosexuality, and also working through some other issues that needed to be worked out.

The conversation between my best friend and I went something like this. My friend (the first person I ever told) outed me again. This time, my best friend really did not believe him, but she played along like she did.

"So does your mom know that you're gay?"
"Actually, no, she doesn't"
"Hah!"
"I'm serious"
"What? No you're not."
"Yes I am, I am gay, and my mother does not know."
"What? No. Really? No. What? You're joking. Are you serious?"
"Yes."
"OH MY GOSH THAT'S SO COOL!"

And that's how my best friend found out. Our relationship has only gotten better since then.

So I don't hide it from anyone anymore. I'm out on campus, I'm out to my lacrosse team, I'm out to all of my friends. I love being out, and I'm SO proud of the gay community for all of the strides they have made in the recent past that has made it comfortable for my generation to come out and be proud.

I'm very fortunate to live in a part of the world where it's not the end of the world if you are gay. I'm fortunate that I didn't attend a body of religion from the time that I was very young that told me that straight is the only way and anything else is a terrible, hell-bound sin.

I'm proud of who I am. I'm proud of myself for coming out. I wouldn't change a thing about me or about anyone. Gay or straight, we're all God's children. God creates in His image, and what better image than the image of Love.

God bless and have a WONDERFUL Pride Month!!!!

TRUE COLORS

I do not even know where to begin with how FABULOUS the True Colors concert was. Maybe it was the weekend, getting away from home and restrictions and being able to be myself with a great friend of mine. Maybe it was being in Boston, far away from the smallness of CT. Maybe it was the cute outfit Regina Spektor wore. Who's to say? Maybe we'll never know. (Her cute outfit certainly had something to do with the awesomeness of everything).

Well, we got very lost trying to find our way there. Very lost indeed. But we were soon found by my gps (if it said "recalculating" or "lost satillite reception" one more time I would have thrown it into traffic). The show was at the T.D. Bank North Center out by Logan, a very nice venue if I do say so. I was impressed. The views were very good from basically anywhere in the theatre, even in the back where all the smokers and too-drunk-to-stumble-back-to-their-seats people congregated.

The opening act was a woman named Kat Teluga (spelt phonetically) and she was good. She was full of energy and excitement, everything an opening act should be. There was definite hesitation with the crowd to get too into her performance, for whatever reason. She did two covers of some Jennifer Lopez (I think...) whilst bouncing around the stage in a poofy little blue number.

Next were The Cliks, a phenomenal band from Canada. I very much admire their lead singer (actually all of the members of the band) Lucas for his determination. He has a rockin voice too. Very Janis Joplin-esqu, if that makes any sense. I recommend buying their new album Snakehouse, it's definetly worth it.

Next was... and my heart flutters a little (a lot)... REGINA SPEKTOR. Oh my gosh it was craziness. She had an AMAZING red dress on that matched her hair and her makeup perfectly. She is so gorgeous, such a marvelous singer and musician. Apres Moi may be my favourite of her songs, but it's a tough call. Actually, on second thought, Better is definetly my favourite. It's just so... I don't even know how to describe it. She has a way of being upbeat and funny about the most sullen, borderline morbid (if not completely morbid) things. It's really an art in and of itself.

Carson Kressley hosted the show, and he did a great job. I was telling the friend that I went with that Carson definetly made fun of lesbians A LOT, and as amusing as it was it teetered on annoying. I was quick to say, though, that making fun of lesbians is probably my favorite thing to do in the entire world. If you can't make fun of yourself, who can you make fun of?

Rosie came out at intermission (no pun intended). She was looking amazing!! She lost so much weight, I'm very proud of her. Rosie is one my personal heroes. I ADORE a League of Their Own (what self respecting, softball playing, woman-loving lesbian doesn't adore that movie? I want a list!) and think Rosie is one of the funniest women in the entertainment industry, the fact that she is an out lesbian and a very outspoken woman only add to how much I love her. I cried when she was talking about her mother and their relationship and how her mother died when she was barely 11. At the end of her wee interlude she said "and if you happen to see an old Irish lady walking around, smiling, send her backstage and tell her I've been waiting for it." I completely lost my shit when she said that. Just thinking about it now makes me get all misty.

The B-52's were next. In the mean time I putzed around, enjoyed Boston and the rowdiness of hundreds of 20/30/40/50something homos. I swear if I saw one more man stick his hands down another man's pants I was gonna drag him home to his mother by his ear. The lesbians were CRAZY. I know we're crazy but really ladies, REALLY?! It's all in good fun, I know, but spill your beer on me one more time and I'll make you go pay 3 bucks for one for me. I'd much rather be drinking a beer than wearing one. I loved it when my friend thought some guy was cute and soon discovered that that "guy" was in fact a girl. We also noticed how every single lesbian/lesbian couple knew every single other lesbian/lesbian couple. It was like a big family reunion. Clearly we were not part of the immediate family, kind of the new kids on the block so to speak.

Oh lesbians, I love you all so much. The gay men have a special place in my heart too. Well, I'll revise that statement. Everyone has a special place in my heart, except haters. They can just go to... somewhere toasty where they will be poked with pitch forks. Nah, I'm not exactly sure what I think happens to people in the afterlife; either people who have led upright, loving lives or people who have spouted hate. It's all for God to decide.

The B-52's were very good. I felt like most of the people in the audience were far more familiar with them that I could ever dream to be. I know Love Shack, and some lyrics to some of their other songs. Otherwise I'm clueless. They were very good, very good at getting the crowd involved.

When Cyndi came on, all hell broke loose. Everyone was singing and dancing and screaming and jumping around (myself included). I'm not going to lie... I did know pretty much every word to every one of her songs, and I let it be known by singing (erm.... screaming) said words the entire time, much to the dismay of the rather intoxicated people in front of me. OH WELL! I LOVE Cyndi, she is SUCH a performer. I've seen Elton John and Celine Dion in concert (so sad that Celine's Vegas show is over...), and Cyndi is definetly right up there with them in terms of the performance she puts on.

They ended the concert by having all the performers come back on stage (including Regina Spektor... by now the people in front of me were horrified by my behaviour and gave me dirty looks, however I continued to scream at the top of my lungs "REGINA I WANT YOUR BABIES!!" and my personal favourite, for anyone who was unsure of my sanity "REGINA WHY WON'T YOU RETURN MY CALLS!!" not that I have ever called her... cause I haven't, but I love creeping people out) for the grand finale. Rosie and Carson and Regina and the B-52's and the Cliks and everybody were all up there, with the great Cyndi, to sing the final song. In the spirit of the concert, and the sum up the message of the concert, they sang "True Colors." Oh how I loved that song. It speaks for all of us, in any given moment of our lives. When we're down and out, we just need a friend or a kind word, or a line in a song or an inch of hope to pull us back up and out of the despair. Well not to worry, I see your true colors, and I know mine, and I'm damn proud. Whether you're straight, gay, bi, trans, whatever you are: BE PROUD OF WHO YOU ARE!!!!!!!! And respect everyone else for who they are. Peace and Love!

P to the S: the only thing that would have made this night even better would have been Rosie singing the song from A League of Their Own (We're the members of the all American league, we come from cities near and far, we've got Canadians, Irish ones and Swedes we're all for one we're one for all we're all American), or if she had whipped Madonna out of her back pocket or something. Ugh... I really was a gay man born in a Lesbians body, I'm convinced (well besides the fact that I have 0 fashion sense).

P to the SS: I GOT THE JOB!!!!

P to the SSS: I'm going to Disney for the last weekend of Gay Days!!!!!!

P Town!!

Alright, oh my gosh I can barely contain my excitement, wooo gotta chill out.

P Town... it's just... it's so amazing... I don't even have the appropriate word to describe it. Fabulous comes close, but it is truly and sincerely AWESOME. I've had lots of really good days in my life:

Like the time my mother rented a bounce around for me and my friends and we went to town.

Or the time my lacrosse team and I went to the gay bar and got verbally assaulted (in jest of course) by drag queens.

Or the time I went to River Rat in Athol, MA (GOOO!!!! it's SOOO much fun!!).

But honestly, none of that compares to the day I spent in Provincetown with my mother and our friend yesterday.

We woke up between 8-9, were on the road by 9:30. The car ride out to the Cape is between 4-5 hours, and it being a holiday weekend traffic vacillated from sparse to no wiggle room at all. We talked in the car for a good long time, took lots of pictures, made lots of stops. I've only ever been to the Cape really (and I consider the beach to be the Cape, since I go to Nantucket fairly often, but I don't consider that 'The Cape') two or three times. One of those times I was incredibly drunk and passed out in the middle of a street in a residential neighborhood. Good times, but that's a story for another lifetime.

We talked a lot about gay marriage, and how my mother is basically indifferent. She believes in equality but she wouldn't stick her neck out for it, which I find to be without tact but that's just me. Our poor friend is very new to this country and, as far as he knows, has never seen a gay person before. What a shock he had.

We went to the beach in P Town, paid $15 for parked but it was sooo worth it. The water is FREEZING this time of year, but I went in anyway cause I'm a rebel, of course. There were girls in bikinis playing rugby in the sand (a dream come true, I nearly cried with joy) and two mothers with their kids playing in the sand and talking to other parents. The bathrooms were atrocious, naturally.

We went into town after discovering that we really were very hungry. I wish I could remember the name of the restaurant where we ate, but the people were SO friendly. They love their customers, and their customers love them in return. I had fish and chips, which were not very good, but the service made the meal. Our friend kept poking me saying "Hey... is he?" or "Is she..." causing me to burst into a fit of laughter without fail every single time.

The HRC store is amazing, go there. It was simply amazing to me to see so many happy couples walking around, with children or with each other, hand in hand, arm in arm, laughing, smiling, enjoying each others company. To me it really is the most perfect place in the world, where anyone can be themselves.

Unfortunately, because I'm not out to my mother, I couldn't chase after the hot young things walking around in bikinis or kiss the ground every time I saw a rainbow flag waving proudly (not that I would have... but I certainly wanted to).

When we piled into the car to head back home when the sun was just setting over the sand dunes everything felt so right with the world. I wanted every single person there to know that I love them with all my heart, for who they are, for what they are, because they are being themselves. I wanted to stay there forever and bask in its awesomeness, but daytrips, much like vacations or Christmas or high school, must come to an end.

As we were pulling away, my mother touched my shoulder and said "I think you and I were the only two straight women there." A little piece of me died, but hey, if she wants to think I'm straight let her. I'm not hiding it, I wear it proudly, and I haven't dated a boy in four years. Even when I did date boys, it was fairly obvious to everyone that I never really liked them very much romantically. Give me a basketball-playing boy or a swimming boy any day, someone to have fun with or to open up a beer with and talk about women, but other than that boys are pretty useless.

Some part of her must know, and if it doesn't then it's her problem for being blind. Though I've never explicitly told her (and I don't feel I should HAVE to tell anyone), I'm pretty gay. I would describe myself as your almost-stereotypical dyke (in that I love and can very often be found wearing polos and board shorts/long plaid shorts, my hair is never not in a pony tail, I don't let people hold the door for me, I hang out in gay bars, oh and I DATE WOMEN). Basically I fit right in at P Town, except for the stars in my eyes when I walked down the street.

Anyhow, Provincetown is AMAZING. Go. Go with your partner, your kids, your mom, your grandma, your dog, your great aunt Sally, your best friend (ALL your best friends!). I definetly recommend it. Provincetown, you have this dyke's seal of approval!