We Need More Love In the World

If you've been on Facebook and Tumblr recently, then most likely you've learned about the Sunday morning suicide of a transgender teenager Leelah Alcorn.

Newsweek has all the details.

Leelah posted a devastating suicide note on her Tumblr.  She was shunned by her "Christian" family.  If you read her note, then it's clear she felt trapped in her current environment and hopeless about her future.

The intention of our Glorious Gay Days blog is to give you data points that my life as a gay man is equal to your life as a straight person, or as a gay person, or as a transgender person.  There's no mysteriousness about being gay in this world - other than the fact that ignorant people are still in this world that don't know gay people are equal to straight people.

We are all the same, and no one individual is more important than another individual.  This I know for sure.  And since we are all the same it is important for the future of humanity that we change behavior to ensure no one feels the hopeless pain that Leelah felt.

As a reminder:

It's important to note we all have low points in life: it's not rainbows and unicorns and cake all the time for anyone.   Not for Oprah.  Not for the Pope.  Not for Matt Damon.  All pain is the same.  It's equally important to note that most of us felt some sort of angst in our formative teenage years.  And most important, absolutely no pain you are feeling is worth the loss of your life.  You are a loved and valued individual.  If you don't feel that love and value, then work to change your path in life.  Be patient.  Be strong.  Don't give up on yourself.  Life is worth living.  You're worth it.

The Trevor Project provides crisis intervention and suicide prevention for LGBTQ youth.

Cards

Christmas was taken down and packed away as of Sunday night, but I don't want to pack up the Christmas cards; they are still displayed on the entry table.  I'm a big fan of everyone mailing photo cards - it's so fun to see friends and family in the cards.  Why don't we do this more often?

In other Glorious Gay Day news, Dooley is still the cutest French Bulldog.  Proof:

Moving Forward

"You don't have to have it all figured out to move forward."

I like this quote.  I needed to see those words.  Because, with only three days left in 2014...the new year, 2015, is within reach.  For years my husband and I have been saying that 2015 is the year we'd make a baby.  The past few years we've been focused on my husband's MBA, my husband's career, my career, and saving cash for baby making.

And now just like the quote from Robert Harling's Steel Magnolias, we're saying to ourselves in a loud voice in a quiet room...

"It's time.  Honey, it's time."

My husband and I had an official family meeting to discuss fatherhood.  After the meeting we sent a note to the surrogacy agency informing them we're ready to get on the baby train and we want a meeting to discuss the next steps.

It's overwhelming.  The thought of having a baby is overwhelming to me.

What if I'm not a good father?

We have exceptional nieces and nephews.  What if our kids are duds compared to my brother's girls and my husband's sister's boys?  (Is it wrong for me to even ask that question?)

Right now I have a team of 25 consultants deployed on two continents; how do I fit fatherhood into the mix?  My career is still on the up take.

What if we have children that are super athletic; I don't know how to throw a baseball, football, etc.?

What if, what if, what if...

My friend Anni, who gave birth to her first child this year, sent me a text that gives me hope: "It'll be easy to figure the kid stuff out once the baby gets here.  It was so daunting before it happened, but for us parenthood came easily once Emily arrived.  I'm sure it will for y'all too."

I trust Anne.  So, that's the attitude I'm taking; it'll all work out. We're boarding the baby train and moving full speed ahead.

We're moving forward.

QOTD

"Don't chase people.
Be an example.
Attract them.
Work hard and be yourself.
The people who belong in your life will come and find  you and stay.
Just do your thing."

Oh Hole-y Night

There's a hole my bucket (dear Liza, dear Liza).  Oh.  I mean: There's a hole in my PJ's (dear Trigger, dear Trigger).

Yes, it's happened again.

Trigger, do you know who might have eaten the crotch out of my pajama pants?

I do.

Trigger has occasionally been doing this to shorts, underwear, and pajamas since the beginning.  In fact, eleven years ago when my husband was roommates with Naz he would stock up on gift cards to Victoria's Secrets, because when Trigger destroyed her panties my husband would just hand over a gift card and an apology.

Also, about that time, once Trigger destroyed the back of my boxers, I didn't realize it when I put on my boxers.  I was walking around my apartment with a hole in the back of my boxers - until my roommate Anne noticed!  Yikes!  To this day she thinks we were doing something kinky with my clothing.  She never believed a dog would do this.

Trigger, it's just part of your charm.

After all, it's my fault for leaving clothing on the floor.

Place Cards

I was cleaning this weekend, and I found four valuable pieces of paper.  The last time our nieces were staying with us I was in the kitchen finishing cooking dinner, and to simultaneously entertain the girls and to give me more time my husband came up with the idea to create place cards for the dinning room table.

My husband and Presely collaboratively created my husband's place card...

Presley, who's 6, created her place card...

Paxten, who's 4, created her place card...

And since I was in the kitchen, Paxten also created my place card...

It cracks me up because Paxten likes to use most the top right piece of her paper.  She also writes in a mirror image.  For example, if I held my place card up to a mirror it reads "Pat Pat." And I like that she added a little rainbow on my place card.

We love our nieces.

Are you two related?

Right after yoga, earlier today...

Nice Lady: "Are you two related?"

I looked at her with with a question mark written on my face.  The question came out of nowhere.

Nice Lady, repeats the question: "Are you two related?" (She points to me and my husband to add emphasis.)

Me: "We're married."

Nice Lady: "Oh.  (pause) Oh, so you ARE related then..."  (She smiled nicely at me as if to reassure me she's okay with that fact.)

I smiled back at her.