You know those sleepless nights of partying and frivolity you had in your youth. It's kinda like that, but without the fun.

Saturday, July 28, 2012

Chick-fil-A and Me. Worst Breakup Ever.

I really need to stop reading articles that support Chick-fil-A, DOMA, and discrimination against gays. I legitimately go insane.
Chick-fil-A. Your sandwiches were never good enough to hate gays. This is coming from someone who loves chicken. Although I will admit that your chicken nuggets are bordering on a point where you can almost hate gays.

Now for the rant.

Either people need to stop leaving comments on these articles or they need to have some idea what they are typing about. Everyone (or pretty much everyone), whether they support Chick-fil-A or not, sounds dumb. I am glad that in the United States both liberals and conservatives, religious or nonreligious can sound like idiots. I hope people from other countries don’t ever find these articles or comments. The wild misspellings and name calling aren’t exactly charming. Calling Chick-fil-A and its supporters liars and bigots isn’t working any wonders, and it is not helping the homosexual/gay rights cause despite what you may think. On the other side, please do not refer to me as a “militant homosexual” Mike Huckabee. I don’t like it, and it scares me to think that I may be drafted now into both the United States army and some secondary homosexual army. On that note, One Million Moms never use the term ‘Big Gay’ machine. Ever. It just sounds too fun and like something everyone would want to join. So maybe, actually keep using it?

Along with not being in any military, I would also prefer not to burn in the pits of hell. That would really be a bummer. So please commenters, do not tell me that I am doomed to this fate as this seems slightly worse than a gay army. I think God is the only one who can determine whether I go to hell or not, right? Similarly, nobody is impressed by Bible quotes either. Any person with the internet, the forum on which you have chosen to write your words of wisdom, can Google “anti-gay Bible verses” or “anti-fag Bible verses” if you’re feeling saucy.

Also, STOP TYPING IN ALL CAPS. We get it. You are really passionate about this issue or your religion. That’s great, but typing in all caps is the internet equivalent of wearing a dunce cap in a 1920’s red schoolhouse.  

Basically, this is just an outcry for people to think before they type. Defending your stance is great, but in all actuality, most of the time, it doesn’t do any good. It is definitely not doing any good when either side lashes out on the other. On the pro-gay marriage side, it further confirms the religious beliefs of the traditional marriage side. I personally do not want to be written off as a “sinner”. I think with thoughtful arguments, our opinions can be heard and actually start to change the opinions of others. Let’s have conversations about issues instead of internet Jet/Shark-esque rumbles. Let’s find out why people think what they think instead of immediately telling them that they are wrong. And finally, let’s treat others how we would want to be treated. We learn this in grammar school and forget it instantaneously when we log onto the World Wide Web. These are actual people writing comments whom have thoughts and beliefs that may differ from yours. They have the rights to these thoughts and opinions as we do not live in the plot of 1984. Would you shout at these individuals on the street if their opinions differed from yours? I hope not, and if you would, I am going to say that you need some anger management counseling. Also, you probably did not get to this point in this post as you realized that this is targeted at your comments. It can be grating when you don’t understand what someone else thinks or why they think it. On homosexuality issues, the stance is pretty much something you are born into, so these ideas can be especially challenging to break/change/bend.

On an end note, I am a big proponent of freedom of speech and freedom of religion as long as you aren’t physically or emotionally hurting someone. I don’t think that Chicago or Boston should stop Chick-fil-A from opening new locations. It kind of violates the exact same principles that we want people to understand. Imagine if I could be fired for being homosexual. (Side note: Oh wait, that’s right, I can be in the majority of the United States.) I want to be able to work where I please and live where I please. Chick-fil-A should have this right too despite opposing the views of Chicago’s and Boston’s respective mayors. However, I do admire this stance and the conversations that it has been started. And this will be the only shout out I ever give to Chick-fil-A: thanks for starting this dialogue (or what could be a dialogue if we actually do the listening portion). By taking a blatant anti-gay marriage stance, you have brought to light several other gay issues and further pushed homosexuality into the public eye. Snaps for the “gay agenda.” (We don’t actually have an agenda. Shhh! *girlish giggles*)

Also, these cities have obese people who need terrible chicken sandwiches, and I don’t want to deprive the people of their freedom of food choice (I think that is in the First Amendment as well, right??). Another thing, I haven’t confirmed this, but I could definitely see some references to Chicago and Boston as Sodom and Gomorra, which we definitely just don’t need.

As for now, I will bid Chick-fil-A farewell. It was definitely one those relationships where you realize that the other person is terrible but you stay with them for years. I will not be going to your party that you are hosting on Wednesday (Chick-fil-A Appreciation Day...THIS IS HAPPENING). I will be screening and blocking all of your calls, and my friends will pick up my things around two p.m. tomorrow. 

P.S. I am sorry that I haven’t written in over a year. I was kind of a little busy with graduate school. I think I am back though, which feels good. I love a good comeback story. Also, I am sorry if this post is like the absolute worst. As I said, I have not written in a super long time, and I am rusty.

Sunday, April 24, 2011

The Gap Year: A Retrospective Look at a Year in Mediocrity

Let me paint you a quick picture: a young, fresh-faced gay male graduates from the University of Illinois with the future in front of him and no limitations in sight. Sure, he had suffered a bit of rejection, but nothing was going to keep him down. The enthusiasm and optimism surrounding him is palpable.

This person is me nine months ago, and he is an IDIOT.

The life undergraduate is a surreal experience soaked in sexual innuendo and alcohol. You graduate with a false sense of superiority, thinking that the world is your oyster. Little do you know that oyster is just waiting to clamp shut on your tiny little torso at any moment.  Damn you oyster for tempting me with your stylish pearls.

Luckily, the skills you gain throughout your college career are extremely useful. FALSE. I’m sorry, but knowing how to hook up with three people in the same evening, control your black outs as to appear not blacked out, and dominate at drinking games will not be useful in your adult life. Well, at least not your professional adult life. I’m sorry I party?

So, seeing as I entered the real world without legitimate skills I ultimately screwed myself into a gap year: a year during which you work for the man at minimum wage. I could no longer work at my retail job with the sense of superiority I once had. I couldn’t say to people, “Oh, this is just my side gig while I finish up school. Look how self important and better than this I am.” I was officially a retail gay and turning more into a stereotype than I ever cared to be.

Seeing as I was working for a pittance, I also had to take a second job as a hotel heiress, meaning I work the night audit every other weekend at a hotel. Do not ask me why I thought it was a good idea to work on the weekends overnight. This is a terrible idea. Like the worst ever. Under no circumstance should this be done or even considered.

Now, this wouldn’t be too terrible, except for the hours of BOTH of my jobs (which scarily almost turned into careers) are awful. I work in retail from 5am ‘til 2pm every weekday and then at the hotel from 11pm ‘til 7 am on weekends. I basically have just kissed my Circadian rhythm goodbye. I miss it, and I treat it as “the one that got away.” On the weekends, I sometimes forget what time it is appropriate to brush my teeth and wash my face. Thank goodness that this has only increased my rugged good looks and charm…

Now, if the gap year teaches you anything, it’s how much your life can blow. During the holiday season, I worked sixty + hour weeks. I did not see my friends or family, and I basically worked or slept through every holiday (both official and drinking) of this past calendar year.  And don't worry, this menial labor isn't too demeaning when you graduated cum laude from a top school with a degree in molecular and cellular biology.

Throw in an ill fated relationship with the craigslist killer and some auto troubles, you have me riding my bicycle to work every morning at 5am with a little bit of emotional damage (cue Damaged by Danity Kane). That gap year can really kick you when you are down my friends.

But don’t worry, this story has a happy ending. I have just recently been accepted to graduate school. The gap year has an end in sight, a light at the end of the tunnel.  The most satisfying part of this will definitely be leaving both of my jobs, especially since we are coming on the busy season in the hotel. Ultimate gratification for real.

This guy is going back to college a little older and a lot wiser.

Saturday, April 23, 2011

Robin Hood and His Merry Men: A Sequel

The Lifeguard and I were alone. The night appeared to be eventful but over.

I have a feeling that this is how people who haven't experienced a tornado before must react:

"O man, I'm safe. That storm ruined my life, but it's finally over. I will never have to go through anything like that again. O wait, I AM IN THE EYE OF THE STORM!! We are just halfway done with this beast." *PANIC*

I was in my own personal tornado (soaking in a false sense of security), and things were about to get worse.

Remember how we had received a ride home earlier in the evening? Remember how I scampered off with two homosexuals leaving the driver alone and helpless? Well, you should, because the Driver will become a key player in the second half of this story.

Let me just start by saying that the details on this part of the evening are slightly...muddled.

I remember being outside of my apartment wearing pajama pants and a cardigan (I decided to forgo a bottom layer for unknown reasons). The Driver seemed to emerge from the All Hallow's Eve mist ominously surrounding my apartment. Now, I must have had a conversation directing him to my location. This has been mentally misplaced on my part.

I invited him into my apartment. I thought that having another person there would ease the awkward situation previously created by Uncle Sam and the Lifeguard. We all took our places on the couch. The Lifeguard was seated in the center with the Driver and I on opposite sides of him.

I decided that the film Donnie Darko would be a good viewing choice. I have since realized that Donnie Darko is not a good film and that I mostly enjoy Jake Gyllenhaal brooding in all that is 80's adolescence.

Well, the film obviously was not that entertaining, because the next time I looked over to my left, I saw some serious fellatio action underneath a blanket.


I think this the point at which I called my friend Amy. The whole recording is muffled except for two words, "madame" and "brothel".

I had apparently opened a whore house in my small apartment, pimping out the Lifeguard to any gay male who happened to stumble in. I COULD NOT handle the situation, especially once Uncle Sam had reappeared to call on his shower buddy.

I believe the night ended in an emotional plea on my part to have the Lifeguard think about his boyfriend (who was sick in bed, most likely dying). It went over really well, as soon afterward the Lifeguard and Uncle Sam merrily pranced to another location.

I woke up the next morning lacking both my phone and a sense of faith in the homosexual way of life.

Happy Halloween?

The following porno names have been attributed to the above evening:
Robin Hood and His Merry Men
All Hallow's Beej
Uncle Sam Wants You

P.s.  I think we can all agree that the most disturbing part of this evening is that I did not get any action. AT ALL.