I just read on Towleroad that the gay Bishop of the Episcopal Diocese in New Hampshire Gene Robinson is soon to retire. His story makes me weep still. In 2003 he was elected bishop with much internal drama and outside hate. He had the courage to live his life. I respect courageous individuals.
To be honest, I don't know if God exist. I hope she does, but I have doubts. What I do know is that if God exists, then I doubt she would care that Bishop Gene Robinson is gay. In Sunday school I was taught that "God is love," which is why I try to live with love.
Today I am sending love and appreciation to Bishop Gene Robinson. Thank you Bishop Robinson.
I knew it would be difficult. It was. I knew it would be magical. It was. (It was like getting kicked in the nuts and smiling instead of crying.) Yes, I just survived three days and two nights as the solo caretaker for our nieces. Our genius, chaotic, silly nieces. I only lost control of the princesses twice (maybe three times) and then I had to remind myself that I was the boss. I loved every minute, and I cannot wait for the next opportunity.
Some of the magic:
How completely unskilled I was at taking two girls to go potty in a public men's restroom the first time. Luckily I'm a fast learner.
I took the girls to the Perot Museum without purchasing tickets online first. We paid for parking, walked to the museum, and then got turned down at the door. They were sold out of tickets until 7PM. That was at 10AM. The girls' bedtime is 8PM.
Teaching Presley how to crack an egg as we baked brownies together.
At the food court at The Galleria the two year old had to go potty, but the four year old wasn't finished eating. I picked the lesser of two evils: we left our food and went potty with the four year old saying she was still hungry all the way to the potty.
Me: "Presley, have you tired the couscous I made for you?" Her: "No." Me: "Why not?" Her: "Because 'couscous' is a funny word."
Watching the girls get excited at Costco's double cart. Apparently my brother and his wife don't Costco?! (Or they don't take the girls?)
Coloring
Playing school
Protecting the girls from Trigger. He thinks he needs to attack running, screaming, jumping girls. Did I mention the girls are always running, screaming, jumping?
Playing monster
Playing hide and seek
Holding Paxten while we watched Disney's Brave
Reading books
Watching the girls play together. They are genuine best friends. Like me and my brother.
Negotiating with Presley
Hearing them talk about their parents
Having my parents come over for dinner and movie!
I love my girls and the excitement they add to my life.
Good News: I just had the most glorious days with the two smartest, imaginative, and energetic little girls a.k.a. the velociraptors a.k.a our nieces. (I'll post pictures soon.) I'm lucky. I'm also tired.
Bad News: I'm about to give up on life. (Not Winning.) My husband and I have been apart for two weeks. During the holidays! I'm tired, cranky, annoyed, and longing to be with the one I love. How do Army wives do this for years while their husbands are fighting wars?! It seems impossible.
Good News: My husband gets home tomorrow! (Will be Winning.)
Wish me luck. I'm hanging out with our nieces for the next few days while my brother and his wife take a much deserved get-away trip. I'm really looking forward to this non-stop niece time. Plus, it will be a nice distraction from missing my husband who is still on the other side of the world.
"I love Roseanne and I loved doing that show. Morgan Fairchild played my girlfriend, and we were supposed to kiss under the mistletoe, but ABC made us cut the kiss just as our lips were ready to touch. That was the mandate back then. You couldn't kiss another woman. We've really come far."
-Sandra Bernhard in the December issue of Instinct magazine.
I just looked it up and Roseanne aired from 1988 to 1997. Isn't it amazing how far we've come in the past 15 years? It gives me hope.
I have successfully brainwashed my family into thinking Christmas equals cinnamon rolls. I'm a fat kid at heart, and I love baking cinnamon rolls. (I have no idea why I forgot to take a photograph of the finished product with icing.) This year I baked 15 pans of cinnamon rolls, and I still didn't have enough to share with everyone. It's blown up into a big deal. I ran out of time.
I'm sure you've seen this brilliant Mariah Carey and Jimmy Fallon with the Roots video. It makes me so happy to watch. If you want to see something else brilliant, then you have to watch this video of the Mariah Carey super fan watching the video. Yes, a Mariah Carey super fan watching Mariah Carey- prepare accordingly.
It is a rainy Christmas morning in Dallas. Snow is perhaps on the way. My husband is across the world, and I'm so glad to be alive in 2012, because we've facetimed many times. He doesn't feel so far away. And perhaps the woman to bring me comfort is Darlene Love singing Christmas Baby, please come home! Of course we are miles apart but close at heart.
This week, before I left town on business, I had to make sure the household was covered by our helpers. I laughed internally and shook my head. What would my 15 year old self say to the 32 year old man I am today? My father always made my brother and I work during the summers. The hotter, the more difficult the job the happier it made him. I thought I was getting a cushy job the summer before my senior year working for the city (he was on the city council) but somehow I got assigned to the waste water treatment plant. I spent my summer with the city's waste water. Seriously. I have worked since I was 15 years old when my mother would drive me to the golf course where I cleaned the fleet of golf carts for mostly idle rich. My favorite job was working for a couple with 33 acres and mule and a horse. I mowed, weeded, shoveled, chopped, and painted my way through triple digits.
However, today, my 32 year old self is performing a wealth transfer from our bank account to our dog sitters (we have two sets) our cleaning lady (she comes every week) our yard people (they come every week even in the winter), and the newest addition is that my husband's taxi driver is on call. He picks my husband up from the airport in an incognito Cadillac SRX. My husband sits in the front seat and does work while his taxi driver rushes him home. All of this is subsidized by our expense accounts, but still it takes a team of helpers (not counting the free help from our parents) to keep our life on track.
When we have kids (fingers crossed) we won't be able to get away with this, but this year we're still a childless household...and so this career driven household didn't get out Christmas decorations out except for this single ceramic lighted Christmas tree that belonged to my grandmother. Every time I see this tree I think of my grandmother and my grandmother's best friend Glenda who had two of these trees.
It's special to just focus on one Christmas item instead of the usual "more is more" approach to Christmas decorating.
Yes, my husband's parents make sure that ALL of their grandchildren including the non-human ones have stockings hanging up at their house. Picture this: My husband's sister's, her husband's, and her two sons' stockings are hung by the chimney with care, and then my husband's, mine, and our two dogs' stockings are hung (equally) with care! I love it.
One day, Yaya and Popa, we will bless you with human children too.
My husband and I arrived at his parents' house just in time to pick up our forks and start eating a delicious beef tenderloin dinner with all the sides and chocolate pecan pie with ice cream for dessert. My husband and I departed from his parents' house just before it was time to wash the sterling silver, crystal stemware, and fine china. Somewhere in the mix we exchanged Christmas presents with his parents. I am very found of my new sheets- purchased from Oprah's Favorite Things 2012 especially for me! The best sheets we have are the ones we ganked from my husband's parents. Now the stolen sheets are the second best set we own.
Of course, the best gift was the time we spent with his parents. Time is so valuable. When the four of us get into a room and are focused on each other it is spectacular. My husband has very little free time. It was a treat to be together to celebrate an early Christmas.
And we're off and running...This is the last weekend my husband and I have together before his worldly travels begin, and we have Christmas parties Friday, Saturday, and Sunday! Since we'll be apart for two whole weeks I'd rather stay in bed all weekend. We're too busy living life to indulge in slow relaxing weekends.
During the holiday shopping craziness I stopped to enjoy this window at Nordstrom. I have to remind myself to stop and live in the moment all the time. To-do lists are always running through my head. It wasn't lost on me that this merry go round of shoes caught my eye, because I feel like we're living the merry go round of life. But aren't we all? We're always on the go, Go, GO!
I hope you and yours stop and enjoy the moments of the season. That's my weekend goal.
Our property tax bill arrived from the Dallas County Tax Office; we're going to write a check for $9,188.02 by the end of the year. I want to take this moment to remind you that just like you my husband and I pay sales taxes, federal income taxes, and state property taxes. However, unlike you we do not have the freedom to marry the person we love. We were both born and reared in Texas, and the state flag is proudly flying outside our house. This is our state. This is our country. This is our home. We are productive, independent members of this great nation, and we're not going to move to another state so we can get married! We shouldn't have to move from our home.
My brother married the person he loved. I want equal rights! Like my brother, my father, my grandfather, I want the right to marry the person I love too.
My buddy Jordan who looks and acts like he belongs in Duck Dynasty sent me a text picture of his 16-month old son's daily daycare report. The report said: "[His son] dressed up in Tinker Bell costumes! It was hilarious and thought it was really fun!" I laughed. Jordan's next text message asked: "Would your daycare sheet have said this?"
I told Jordan not to worry until his son starts asking for She-Ra's castle instead of He-Man's castle. (Flash back to Christmas 1986!)
Jordan text back to me: "No worries here, would have liked a picture though."
His "no worries here" text made me so happy. The world is changing for the better when 30 year old fathers do not care if their sons are gay or straight!
I intentionally write this blog to prove 1) our love is equal to (not less than) any other committed hetero couple, 2) the gay stereotypes that saturate our popular culture represent only one street of the gayborhood, and 3) to disarm any fears readers might maintain about queers. (Don't fear the queer.)
But I know it's easy to fear what you do not understand. As such, I'm writing this blog to introduce you to our average, ordinary, divine life...oh, and we happen to be two gay dudes.
When I saw this photo of two men getting married in Washington state my heart sang with joy and happiness. Don't you see this one photo proves my point completely?
*****
"One month after Washington State voters approved the state’s marriage equality law in Ref. 74, same-sex couples get marriage licenses for the first time on December 6th, 2012. At around 1:30am, Larry Duncan, 56, left, and Randy Shepherd, 48, from North Bend, Wash. got their marriage license. The two plan to wed on December 9th, the first day it is possible for them to wed in Washington State. They have been together for 11 years."
*****
Life is short. If we're lucky we get 85+ healthy years on earth. If we're luckier we find true love in this life. Why can't I marry the one I love? What does my marriage have to do with you? In honor of all future gay individuals that will arrive on this earth in the upcoming decades and centuries I will continue to champion equality for all! Similarly, we are standing at a better spot today because of all the gay activists that lived before my time.
It is my dream to be able to marry the man I love in the state I love before I die. Today I'm 32 years old. Larry and Randy accomplished my dream when they were 56 and 48. Congratulations men! I celebrate your love. Cheers.
"You've changed and are changing the lives of little boys and girls who realized somewhere along the way they're just different from their other brothers and sisters. And so the fuck what?"
- Sally Field
via page 12 of the December/January issue of The Advocate
When my husband grills his delicious BBQ chicken he is shadowed by Trigger. Usually we treat Trigger to the tendon between the two chicken breasts after it's grilled, but Trigger doesn't understand the timeline. He smells chicken and he shadows my husband until the very end; he follows him from kitchen to backyard grill. It makes me smile.
And yes, those are my husband's sexy legs in this photo.
And yes, it's 80 degrees in Dallas in December so we're still grilling.
I've been jamming to my new music discovery: The Lumineers' "Ho Hey." I think these lyrics are incredible too.
I been trying to do it right
I been living a lonely life
I been sleepin' here instead
I been sleepin' in my bed
I been sleepin' in my bed
So show me family
All the blood that I will bleed
I don't know where I belong
I don't know where I went wrong
But I can write a song
I belong with you, you belong with me
You're my sweetheart
I belong with you, you belong with me
You're my
I don't think you're right for him
Think of what it might have been if we
Took a bus to Chinatown
I'd be standin' on canal, and Bowery
And she'd be standin' next to me
I belong with you, you belong with me
You're my sweetheart
I belong with you, you belong with me
You're my sweetheart
Love we need it now
Let's hope for some
Cause oh, we're bleedin' out
I belong with you, you belong with me
You're my sweetheart
I belong with you, you belong with me
You're my sweet
Readers of this blog know I enjoy The History Channel's Pawn Stars immensely. It's all about the dynamics of the grandfather, son, grandson, and the unintentionally funny best friend- Chumlee. (What Betty White was to the Golden Girls, Chumlee is to Pawn Stars.) I'm a fan of the show- the key word being "show." While we were in Las Vegas we went to the real pawn shop; we waited in line to get into the store, and we walked out with this classy Christmas tree ornament and a t-shirt.
I wish I hadn't visited the shop. All the Taxi drivers said EVERYONE walks away disappointed. Apparently those guys make so much money from the success of the show that now they only work at the pawn shop on the days it's being filmed. If you bring something really cool to the shop, then they'll ask you to come back while they're filming. It's all produced. It's not an organic "let's follow these guys around with cameras" and see what we get. Why is all good reality television a bit scripted?
The shop is much smaller in person too. In my life I've walked through the television sets of Friends, Dharma and Greg, and Crook & Chase. (I lived a charmed life, I know) Each time I was startled at how small the sets look in person. The pawn shop has the same dynamic; it's small when you see it with your own eyes, which was disappointing.
My husband and I only have a handful of gay friends. Usually we're the one gay couple in our circle of friends; we're homos living in a hetero world. Lucky for us our friends Adam and Eddie are having twin sons via surrogacy. This weekend I attended their baby shower while my husband studied for finals. I was delighted to witness their baby journey.
The twins should be here in less than 8 weeks!
Adam has been very honest about the surrogacy process, and it looks like the total bill (all in) will be north of $120,000 for their two sons. That's not including any of the nursery items. That's just the cost of getting them here.
We're investing in my husband right now as he pursues his MBA. In May 2014 when he graduates we won't have an extra $120,000 in the bank. Adam wants us to hire their nanny in two years, because they'll send the twins to school at that point. In order for us to have children before our 35th birthday it looks like we should go the adoption route.
This is my favorite Christmas song of all times. Darlene Love kills that song. I can feel her wanting. It's also a Christmas tradition to watch her sing it live on Letterman.
This year my husband will be in Israel during Christmas, which means Darlene Love will not be the only one wanting this December 25.
Maybe I do have a problem? Is the Universe trying to tell me something? I was pulled over, again. I was (allegedly) going 45 MPH in a 30 MPH zone in a small town in western Oklahoma. I'm getting really good at joking around with police officers while they're checking my license and registration. This officer was extremely nice looking...I was hoping he'd have to pat me down. He said he was only going to write me a warning, but I better slow down. (Thoughts in my head: "That's right officer. I've been a bad boy. What are you going to do about it?") The hot officer (who must moonlight as a stripper) came running back from his car and threw my license and registration at me and told me to have a nice day and slow down! He then ran back to his car and sped away with the sirens and lights going. Come back hot officer! I guess he had an emergency?
This is the third time in thirty days I've been pulled over; before this trio I hadn't been pulled over in five years, at least. I am going to have to focus on going 30 MPH in 30 MPH zones a.k.a. speed traps. Wish me luck.
