A hazardous profession

Christine: you saw that guy who posted who thinks he's the messiah, right?
Dawn: yeah, I read the first paragraph and thought, whatevah, and scrolled down to the other comments
Christine: well on his blogger profile, under profession it says "messiah"
Dawn: well he's in for a rude awakening when people crucify him for his blasphemy

Left behind

Sorry for the blogging absence. I've been living life and having a great time.

However, I've been meaning to share this with you all so that you can have some instructions in case of rapture. This was left on my truck last week.

What To Do In Case You Miss The Rapture?
1. Stay calm and do not panic.
2. Realize that you are now living in the Great Tribulation.
3. Pray like you have never prayed before in your life. Start by repenting for your sins.
4. Do not take the mark at any cost.
5. Set a plan in motion for survival.
6. Trust no one.
7. Watch for the Antichrist.
8. Don't give up hope!

There's also some other information about who exactly will be raptured.

The shocking effect about the Rapture is that many professing Christians will be left behind, while those very few who have been diligent in wearing their white robes (Revelation 19:7-8) will have been raptured and be with Jesus. Follow Jesus' instruction of the Christian life (Matthew 5-7) [These are the most important passages for those truly prepared for the return of Jesus Christ].

I'm assuming "white robes" does not refer to these kind.

I also shouldn't neglect the information provided about the Mark of the Beast. Here are some excerpts:

It is crucial to understand that the decision to take the mark of the beast involves some form of a pledge of allegiance to the Antichrist...This pledge of allegiance will mean that individuals accept the Beast's system of government, finance, and religion.

I remember being so scared of the rapture and of the tribulation when I was a kid. I would worry myself to tears about not being able to buy food without the "666" tattood on my forehead or hand or wherever. At the tender age of nine, I even remember asking my brother what would happen to us if we didn't take the mark of the beast and couldn't buy food. Older and wiser at seventeen, he somberly told me that he felt that God had given him his job at Albertson's as a grocery bagger so that we would be able to get food without having to take the mark. This comforted me until he quit that job and joined the Air Force within the next year.

I was also worried about the rapture happening and missing it. I would pray frequently for Jesus to come into my heart again, just in case it didn't "stick" the previous time. If I came home from school and my mom wasn't in the house, I would call the church and if someone answered, I'd hang up, relieved. I believed that the church secretary would surely be included in the rapture, so if she was there, I was still safe!

On a related note, I've been enjoying reading Slacktivist's Left Behind commentary. Not only does it analyze the fine writing and plot of the book, but it also has some thought-provoking commentary.

Ex-gays in the UK

Dave Rattigan, one of the newer contributing authors at exgaywatch just posted a piece he wrote for a magazine. He writes,

What if I had been like my friend Gary from Bible College, who spent his young life fighting severe depression and made several suicide attempts over his inner struggle with homosexuality? On the other hand, perhaps it was fortunate the pastor swept the issue under the carpet – for what if I had ended up like my friend Daniel, a Pentecostal elder pressured into marriage by a church and pastor who convinced him he could “change”? What if like him I had left a broken wife and children behind when it all fell apart years later?

“God make me straight,” I used to pray nightly. It’s what every dissatisfied gay Christian wants more than anything. I would wake up the next day and sometimes get as far as lunchtime thinking maybe that was the day I’d wake up healed. But always it would end in disillusionment, the same feelings coming back, and I knew I wasn’t changed inside.

He goes on to give a brief history of the ex-gay movement, as well as some current day perspective on what the ex-gay movement is like in the UK. He explains,

Where Love in Action denies there is such a thing as “gay”, and Exodus admits some people are gay but promises “growth into heterosexuality”, TFT [True Freedom Trust, a ministry in the UK] appears to do neither. In fact, just last year TFT severed its affiliation with Exodus Global Alliance, disconcerted over the rhetoric coming from North America. The media soundbites promising a change of orientation were beginning to worry them.

“We found it very difficult to identify with what was coming from over there, with what they’re saying publicly,” Hallett told me. “There’s a tendency to set people up for disillusionment. Exodus should have learned from that by now.”

Indeed. I wish more ministries in North America would do this, since it seems some ministries contemplate it behind the scenes but are not able to terminate this relationship since they will lose their voice within Exodus (although it seems to not be heard by the current leaders), as well as the all-important referrals they get from the organization.

On a side note, I could especially relate to this from a former ex-gay, Elizabeth:

Nevertheless, she remembers the hurt of being treated by fellow Christians as if her lesbianism were an ailment. “People I told treated it like a disease and wanted to pray over me to get rid of the illness.”

“When I found out who I was, it felt like a light had been switched on,” she says. “I was so much happier. It just felt like those people in church would have preferred if I had stayed as the person in intense physical and mental pain rather than being happy and in love. It felt so twisted.”

I recall attending a funeral last year with people from my old church. They kept coming up to me and saying, "Wow, God must have really healed you! You look so healed and happy!" to which I could only say, "Yes, I am healed, and I am happy, but I'm still gay." (I have to mention that I thought, but didn't say - wow, and I'm at a funeral - imagine how happy I must look when I'm at something remotely fun!)

Read all of Dave Rattigan's enlightening and sensitive article Out and Cowed? Ex-gays in the UK.

Some father's day thoughts

In honor of Father's Day, I'd like to point out some posts I've enjoyed on the subject of dads:

First, there's Abigail Garner who has two dads she celebrates today. She posted with pictures of her and her two dads here. She's written many articles about her dads. This one asks the question, "What is it about my two dads’ 26-year-relationship that the president finds so threatening?"

Steve and his partner Toney are the very proud parents of Kristin, a cutie preschooler. A while back he wrote a great post where he talked about a book Kristin was reading.

Kristin got a stack of used books from a friend for her birthday. One of the books is called What Do Mommies Do? Here is the gist of the book:

Inside Cover:
Mother ducks teach ducklings to cross streets safely. Mother squirrels teach small squirrels how to save. Mother bears share picnic lunches with their cubs. Mother raccoons teach their babies to wash before meals. And the strange fact is: human mothers teach children these very things, too - to cross streets carefully, to save, to have fun at picnics, to wash before meals.
...
[The book ends with] What do mothers do that's best of all? They love their children very much!

...
[Steve says]
Surprise, surprise, daddies do all those things too!"

I also would like to remember today all the dads out there who aren't allowed to have contact or meaningful relationships with their kids because of their sexual orientation. For all of those who have been vilified and kept out of your kids' lives, I'm so sorry. Please don't let that keep you from sharing what you have with kids around you who may need it.

For all you dads out there who are parenting kids, and for all of the men out there who serve as mentors and role models to kids: Thank you. Happy Father's Day.

Quote of the (yester)day

Congratulations to Peterson, who was Andrew Sullivan's Quote of the Day yesterday.

"The vast majority, and I am not exaggerating, of the scores and scores of people I know through these ["ex-gay"] organizations, are out now, accept themselves as gay, and look back on that time as very traumatic and difficult. ... Many of them have walked away from God and any sort of faith tradition because they were so disappointed — they'd been lied to over and over again by people speaking in Jesus' name"

from a great National Review article.

Thanks for always being willing to speak out, Peterson.

People (1 of 3 photo posts)

Here are some of the people I spent time with on my birthday tour (I'll probably write more about it later, but I'm so wiped out now - y'all done wore me plumb out!):

Jeff and Roy from GCN.

My cousin Anne in Kentucky.

Anne's husband, Stu.

Anne and Stu's kids (my first cousins once-removed--or in Kentucky, I guess I should just say "kin"), Katie, Maddie and Jake.

Jamie McDaniel, Soulforce staffer and friend from GCN.

Alicia flossing her teeth in Nashville, outside Exit/In on Church Street. Oral hygiene is important.

Alicia again. She and her partner, Val, drove in all the way from South Carolina to celebrate my birthday with me.

Val and Heather. Heather and her partner, Angie, graciously opened their home to us.

Angie and Heather, our fabulous hosts in Tennessee.

Places (2 of 3 photo posts)

I was amazed at how green and lush everything was. Then again, it should be, what with all the humidity there. I was also taken by the many collapsing barns and sheds found in rural areas.






The sunset on my birthday was gorgeous.

and Things (3 of 3 photo posts)

This is a watercolor my 17-year-old cousin, Katie, painted. She's amazingly talented.

I cheated on Max and Sophie while I was away. This is Monkeepuss. I missed my babies and he helped my feline-cravings.

The front porch in Tennessee.

My birthday cake(s). Note the purses. ;) I was sick for the last half of my birthday, so these had to wait for the next day.

I was thrilled to spot this billboard right before I left Nashville. Jamie (from Soulforce) had told me they'd be going up over the weekend.

The birthday season

It has begun. The birthday season (er, my birthday season, at any rate) is upon us. I'm leaving for a trip to Kentucky and Tennessee so that I can properly celebrate. My 35th birthday is next week and I thought a big celebration was in order, especially in light of all that's gone on for me over the last year. It's time to celebrate life!

As usual, I am running late...my flight leaves in two and half hours and I am still doing laundry and burning CDs (I plan to do a lot of driving I think and can't be tuneless -- I'm including lots of Stevie Ray Vaughan, Over the Rhine, Mary Chapin Carpenter, Lyle Lovett...in case you just had to know)...and, of course, blogging.

I hope I won't have to do a repeat performance of that time I ran through the airport barefoot (never had time to put my shoes back on after the screening) so that I could catch that plane. By the way, those little moving walkways? They're made of something like razor blades. Just in case you ever are running around an airport barefoot.

I'll be hanging with my cousin Anne (or, how we say it in our Norwegian family -- "cussin" Anne) and her husband and kids in Kentucky. I'm also going to be seeing Roy and another guy from gaychristian.net. Then my friends from South Carolina are going to drive to TN to meet up with me for an Over The Rhine concert (they have some mp3s here) and lots of fun on "the actual day" (that's an inside joke for family members...my Mom gets a wee bit obsessed about celebrations being on "the actual day").

So here's my offer, left over and still good from my recent California trip. If you're a reader of my blog, or a GCNer (so, not part of the Phelp's clan, not an ax-murderer and not a crazy homophobe) and you're in the Nashville or Lexington areas, send me an e-mail.

All the rest of you still have time to shop!

Newsflash!

There's a bit of discussion going on in the comments for my last entry concerning the true origins of homosexuality. Turns out, it might be chocolate chips. Who knew?

Bigotry is contagious

Have you heard how gays have shortened lifespans? Or that gays suffer from something called "Gay Bowel Disease?" That homosexuals perpetrate half of all child molestations?

All of these lies (and there are many more where these came from) can be traced directly to one Paul Cameron. He has manufactured lies by writing his own studies that usually link to actual scientific studies, but distorting the findings of the scientists. It was actually for this reason that he was expelled from the American Psychological Association in 1983 and the Nebraska Psychological Association in 1984.

Not that any of this slowed him down. He continued to go on to write more scientific-sounding papers and studies, linking to his own earlier works. Other people linked to his bogus studies and then the religious right picked up those studies and cited them. It's an endless cycle that's just kept on going. Those who hate gays (and even those who wouldn't claim to hate gays at all) don't really care to check their facts and find out the sources of the source. The scientific community has pretty much ignored him since he's mostly been self-published or published in obscure journals.

I'm going to interrupt this news brief to tell you a little story.

There was a girl who was raised in a fundamentalist, Christian home. She loved to read and would devour anything written. Her parents received copies of Dr. Dobson's monthly newsletter and the American Family Associations newsletter. When she was fifteen she read "Special Report: AIDS" which blamed gay men for AIDs (and said they were intentially spreading it) and called for tattooing AIDS patients in the face. While she'd read about homosexuals for some time, when she was sixteen, it was there that she read that there was a Gay Agenda and it involved men molesting boys at every opportunity! It was there she fully formed in her head the notion of what it meant to be "homosexual." Being homosexual meant doing dirty things and teachers having sex with boys.

After she graduated from high school, in her home state of California, Representative Dannemeyer published "Shadow in the Land: Homosexuality in America." He called gay people the "ultimate enemy." Her parents received material from the Traditional Values Coalition that stated gay people should not be allowed to serve in the Military because other soldiers would get AIDs from the poor hygiene of the sick and dying AIDs-infested soldiers.

By the age of 21, she would spend nights alone in her room, drinking herself into oblivion in order to deal with the reality that she, too, was one of those homosexuals. The self-hatred ran deep and seemed to know no bounds. She would wake up, hungover, with "die, lesbo bitch, die" written on her skin in permanent marker. It seemed an impossible task to sort out her orientation and conceive of any kind of a life outside of disease, misery, and hatred. She gave herself non-permanent tattoos to reinforce the hatred, almost as if she was preparing for receiving an indelible state-ordered one in the future.

That girl was me.

And Paul Cameron was behind or working with all of those hateful organizations and "research" that came into our house on a regular basis.

As a community, gays still can't live down his old and debunked statistics. As recently as last year, Rob Parsley (a Christian televangelist) quoted some of Cameron's anti-gay statistics. They included "only 1 percent of the homosexual population in America will dies of old age, the average life expectancy for a homosexual in the United States is 43 years of age and although homosexuals represent only 2 percent of the population, they're carrying 60 percent of the known cases of syphilis." These statistics are directly from Cameron's so-called "research" and they were discredited years ago.

We have the chance now to stop another set of bogus statistics from having a life for the next 20 years or more.


Recently, and how this happened no one can still understand, an actual legitimate journal, the Journal of Biosocial Science, published a paper of his. This is a Cambridge University Press Journal. This is what Paul Cameron has been waiting for for a long time.

The paper is called "Children of Homosexuals and Transsexuals More Apt to be Homosexual." The first words are "'Common sense' holds that homosexuality is 'contagious'" and goes downhill from there.

Where does he get his data from? He says he's getting it from three other "books." OK, so what are these books? Studies? Research books?

Nope, they're just books. Non-research books. Books you can buy on Amazon.com. Books that the authors never intended to have used to bolster anti-gay "research." Books that were not research to begin with, but books intended to approach a broad range of issues using the stories of kids with Gay parents.

One of these books is Abigail Garner's Families like Mine: Children of Gay Parents Tell It Like It Is. Abigail writes that when she found out about the paper, "I was shocked. I had interviewed over 50 adult kids for my book. Cameron had broken down my sample by gender and sexual orientation of the the parent, and the gender and sexual orientation of the offspring. He did the same for two other books, tallied up who dates men and who dates women and concluded that this sample is reflective of the broader population of people with gay parents."

She later clarifies, "In fact, I had made a point of having a roughly even number of straight kids and second generation kids so that both views would be evenly represented in the book. In other words, because of the goals of my book, I deliberately aimed to have 50% of the kids interviewed to be queer. Not because it is statistically reflective of the population, but to give it balance of perspective."

The press release about this article has gone out on the ChristianNewswire--It goes out to all the major Christian organizations.

Jim Burroway at Box Turtle Bulletin has done an excellent job of analyzing the article in question. Abigail Garner has been in contact with the both the Journal of BS (er, Biosocial Science) and other organizations to try to get this thing nipped in the bud. She's had no response from them. Jim Burroway has also contacted the JBS with no success.

Unless we can stop it, I see no reason why this won't be one more tool in the religious right's aresenal against gay parents (and this affects kids of gay parents who don't have the right to have both parents be legal guardians, gays who want to adopt, etc). There's a lot at stake here.

I don't want any other kid to hate themselves or live in as much fear and shame as I did. It's taken me years to sort myself and my orientation out. I wish I could have done that in an atmosphere of love, support, and truth--not bigotry based on lies.

That's what's really contagious. Not homosexuality, but the bigotry of Paul Cameron.

Giving thanks where it's due

After reminiscing with my friend Sheila about instructors and staff at the Junior College we attended in Santa Rosa, tonight I sent the following e-mail to my former academic counselor:

Karen, I have no idea if you remember me (frankly I'd be surprised if you did, it's been so many years).

I attended SRJC in 91-93 (roughly in there). I was a floundering art major who didn't plan on going to University until you got in my business about it. I think I met you initially because I was friends with a girl (XX) who had attempted suicide and you were her academic counselor. So I went to talk to you to let you know she'd be missing classes and you were the first person who asked how I was doing about the whole thing! So I started going to you for my academic counseling.

Anyway, you were pretty much the only person encouraging me to continue my education. My parents were fundamentalist Christians who didn't believe in helping me financially with school (they didn't think I should go, and had said that if God wanted me to go, he would provide). Needless to say, it was a real struggle for me to even find it within myself to complete the process for loans and pursue a transfer to one of the UCs. But you encouraged me and helped me to fill out all the paperwork and get the transfer agreement process started.

It had honestly never occurred to me that I might be good enough to go to a University or even a State college--I had never even taken the SATs or planned on getting a degree (I remember you saying "you have a 3.9 GPA...you're smart!"). I truly didn't think I would ever be able to do that. I ended up graduating with honors, too, in 1995, in spite of a lot of family problems during that time. I really have you to thank for it.

I recently had the opportunity to walk around SRJC while on a visit back to CA (I live in Denver now). I thought of you, of course, and wondered if you were still there, or if I could find your info to thank you. Anyway, I know you may feel you've got a thankless job sometimes, but I just want to let you know you changed my life.

Thank you

Christine

If you're reading this and you have the chance to touch the life of a student, remember that you have no idea the difference a little encouragement could make.

(I'll also add that while she probably thought my year spent at the Bible college was a waste, and couldn't understand how my parents could take the stance they did, she never let that color her judgment or how she spoke to me about them. She didn't understand it or my faith, but she respected that I wasn't at a place where I was able to fully question the reality in which I'd been raised. I really appreciate her for that. Sometimes it's not in someone's best interests to try to shake all their foundations loose; sometimes all that's needed is a nudge in the right direction--they'll figure it out over time at the pace that's right for them.)

The travelogue

So my eyes and the perpetual headache (but not a tumor!) make blogging not so very much fun right now, but I really want write about my trip to California.

Hands down, this was the best time I've had back in California, since I moved away to de-gay in 1998.

The last time I was in the Bay Area, in 2003, nothing felt right to me. I thought that I would go back and have a fantastic time and feel wonderful (like I was "home" again). And I just didn't. Here's something I wrote upon my return in 03:

We went over the hill to Santa Cruz the day before I left, and it just felt different to me this time. Different...weird...different...sad. It was just like...this isn't my life anymore. Yes, I lived here for 5 years, went to college here, came out here, met my best friend (the fencer) here, started my career here, "found Jesus" here. And yet all of that seemed so removed. It was a weird feeling. I felt disconnected from everything. Like it wasn't a part of me anymore. I don't know how to explain it - or why it was important and made me feel so down. Even the ocean seemed sad that day. Everything just seemed gray and blah. And I loved it, sort of, but it wasn't home anymore. And I don't feel like here is really home either.

This time everything felt wonderful and happy to me. The difference? Me, and the fact that I am comfortable in my own skin for the first time in so many years.

On this visit I was at a place I love (the Bay Area), coming from a place I call home (Denver) and I now know who I am. The last time I was there I felt caught between who I had been (as gay and out) and who I'd been recently (as ex-gay) and who I felt like I was becoming (something more ex-ex-gay), and I just really wasn't comfortable in my own skin. Everything in Santa Cruz seemed like loss to me then. And there wasn't anything in Denver I felt like coming home to. I wasn't sure if I identified as gay or straight, Christian or not. I was in limbo land, looking for a place to call home.

(Wow. Reading back on those old journal entries from 2003 makes me realize how far I've come.)

So here's a bit of a travelogue of my trip (feel free to skim - it's long and probably boring to those who don't know me or aren't familiar with the Bay Area):

I flew in Thursday night and drove into San Francisco. I was amazed at how I still know how to get everywhere. I parked at Coit tower and walked down and back up most of Telegraph hill. I didn't see any wild parrots, but I did see tons of flowers and amazing gardens, not to mention the gorgeous view of the bay. I really need to get a camera.

As I was driving through San Francisco, I drove up a street with the most ridiculous incline, even for San Francisco. I really think this has got to be the steepest street in San Francisco. The smell of melting tires and overworked clutches brought back memories as we inched up this street (there was a stop sign at the top of the street, so it was lurch, burn rubber, and go and then slam on the brakes every few feet). It felt like I was in a ride at a theme park. I kept thinking my glasses were about to slide off the back of my head, and I remember feeling thankful I was seat-belted in. If I'd been in a convertible I know I would have lost things out the back of the car. Anyway, I get to the top of the hill and was greeted by a yellow sign that said "Hill." Thanks, San Francisco!

I ate dinner at Fisherman's wharf (I actually found free street parking, if you can believe that)--calamari and clam chowder--and bought french bread from Boudin's. As an aside, this is the best bread ever. I recommend the garlic and asiago cheese volcano bread. Real sourdough bread just cannot be made anywhere else but San Francisco!

I then drove down to San Mateo to catch my fencing friend, Janine, finishing up her class. This is the first time I've seen her since she got her Master's (the biggest difference that I see, since I don't know anything about fencing, is that she gets to wear black now, instead of white, and that she's super smart since she wrote an entire thesis on "The Decline of Right of Way"). I felt really proud and dorky watching her, reminiscing on when she first started studying fencing, and how long a route this has been for her. Here's a pic of the two of us together over the weekend.

I stayed with the Maestro and Maestra that night (her husband is also a fencing Maestro) and then we went to Santa Cruz the next day. It was an absolutely gorgeous day and while Janine got a massage, I had a leisurely breakfast at a Vegetarian restaurant that Peterson would have loved (they always look at me funny at these places when I ask for food with no soy--I'm allergic). Janine and her massage therapist (also a friend) and I ate lunch by the beach in Capitola. It was such a wonderful time. Janine and I also visited fabric and yarn stores so she could feed her many hobbies (hey, I can't complain, we picked out fabric for her to make me a new purse, and also fabric for a kitty quilt). And really, we could hang out at a pest-control convention or something and have fun...

Saturday was the GCN meetup. At this point I was staying with Brad, a wonderful GCNer. We had a picnic and played croquet. I am clearly not an expert at this game, although somehow I did end up coming in third. I may not rock at croquet, but here's a hidden talent of mine. I can play a song on the piano laying upside down on the bench with my arms crossed over each other. The best part is that I learned this skill at the age of possibly 9 or 10, from watching the Lawrence Welk show! It was my favorite "show and tell" event as a kid, and I guess still is now. I suppose it will always work to break the ice.

Here's one more pic of my GCN friend Sherri and I pretending to "fence" for Janine's amusement. I don't think she was amused. :)

Sunday was Mother's Day, so Janine and I had an un-Mother's Day celebration. We hung out in sunny Los Gatos all day, going into shops, buying beads and other girly things, eating at Pizza My Heart (my favorite Pizza place from Santa Cruz) and just generally having a good time. We had some good talks too, especially when I was suffering stabs of guilt about the situation with my own Mom. Janine was very supportive (she and her brother have not had any contact with their parents in years), but also reminded me that it's easy to only remember the good things, especially as one gets further away from having any contact. I was thinking of how I wished I could take my mom out for Mother's day, and spend time with her like so many other mothers and daughters were doing all around us. But there is too much water under the bridge at this point. Too much hurt, coupled with her complete unwillingness to address any of the issues honestly. So while I looked around and wished that I could have a happy Mother's day with my mom, the reality I'm sure would have been far different, and it would have left me more wounded in the end. I think it's good for me to keep that perspective.

Monday morning I drove up to Novato (north of San Francisco) and hung out with my friend Sheila. We haven't seen each other since 1997 (we think). The weird thing is that we pretty much looked the same, except for my longer hair and purse-toting ways. We drove out to Bodega Bay and spent the day there. I got more seafood (crab is in-season!) at Lucas Wharf. At the end of the day, I did my ceremony with the box. I'll write more about that in a separate post, perhaps. I think it was really healing and gave me a bit of closure. I still keep seeing the box bobbing in the water, going in and out of the foam, surrounded by dense fog. It was an important time.

That night Sheila and I drove into Santa Rosa to go check out the Junior College where we met. We walked all through Analy Hall (the art building where the sign was almost continually defaced, reading "Anal Hall") and Emeritus Hall. We were looking for past instructors but many of them have moved on now. Still, both of us had so many experiences there, good and bad, and we each grew up a lot during our time there, so it was fun to reminisce.

I stayed that night in Richmond and hung out in Bezerkely (Berkeley) and San Francisco the next day. It turns out I'm a great travel companion. I really like traveling by myself and not really having any plans. I drove around the east side of the City and then went over to the west side to spend some last moments at the beach before I had to go back to the airport.

All in all, it was one of the best vacations I've had in many years (maybe one of the best ever).

I'm leaving in a week to go to Kentucky and Tennessee for my 35th birthday bash, so we'll see if that can top this. Maybe I'll even get a camera before I go (an early birthday present to myself?)

It's not a tumor

Just thought you might be interested to know that I probably don't have a brain tumor. It's also unlikely that I'm going blind (remind me to cancel that order for books on CD).

I had convinced myself a few weeks ago that I was going blind...but I think now that it's only a sinus infection that has come to live in the area around my eyes. It's to the point where I really can't stand reading and I often close one of my eyes to be able to focus well on something, especially when tired. And of course, there's the little fact that my eyes are constantly watering and there's pain behind my eyes. You can see where I might have taken these symptoms and run with them, right?

I had a coworker who once told me that he thought I was a necrophiliac. When I laughed and said, "I don't think that word means what you think it means..." he said "Oh, you're right. I meant kleptomaniac." Eventually he settled on "hemophiliac." (I'm not that, either.)

I do in fact know the way to San Jose

And I'm leaving on a jet plane in a few hours.

I thought I'd get a few good blog posts up before I left but, shockingly, I left everything to the last minute, and didn't check when my flight actually leaves until last night (turns out, like every time, it's much earlier than I thought).

I know that "leaving it for the last minute" thing comes as a great shock to those who know me well. Although, if you're a client of mine, I'm not talking about your work, of course. That always gets done on time, every time, and I'd never dream of leaving it until the last minute. (Actually, this is true...I don't know why but if it's for a client, I'm all over it...maybe I should just pretend that all my personal business is for pay?)

Anyway, back to my trip. I'm heading out to California today for a well-deserved break and time with good friends. I'll be staying with my friend Janine, one of the only classically-trained Italian female fencing Maestros in the U.S. I'll hit the tail end of one of her classes tonight, and we'll spend the next three days hanging out, eating In-N-Out burger, and generally just doing a whole lot of nothing. We do plan to make a trip to Santa Cruz tomorrow, to check out the beach and maybe visit some old haunts (we were roommates for five years there).

I'll also be spending time with Brad from GCN (he's putting me up for three of the nights I'm in San Jose). We'll also have a mini-GCN meet with Bay Area folks on Saturday and I'm looking forward to that. If you're in the San Jose/Bay Area and would like to meet up with us (and you're not an ax-murderer or part of the Phelps' clan), shoot me an e-mail (it's on my profile).

On Monday I'm going to visit my friend Sheila. Sheil and I met in the fall of 1991. We had a humanities class together and also ended up riding the same bus with a crazy assortment of characters. We became pretty quick friends after we finally got up the nerve to talk to each other (about homework or something benign). We did a lot of hanging out and she witnessed a lot of changes in my life over the years. When we first met, I had just come out of the Bible college and was still a very vocal Christian (although suffering privately with my own doubts and a drinking problem). I just came across one of the papers I wrote for my humanities class, and it's really embarrassing. I think I was trying to convert my professor, although I was so unarmed for any kind of battle of wits on the issues.

Sheila came with me when I checked out the University of California at Santa Cruz (which ended up in a very funny incident in San Francisco when my old Nissan Sentra broke down on 19th Avenue and Sheila freaked out because she had to get home to wash her hair). I'm sorry, Sheila, I'll let it go one of these days. I came out to her over the phone (we hardly saw each other once I was in Santa Cruz - I'm not sure why), and she was always supportive of me. She was one of the many friends that I completely abandoned when I moved to Denver to be ex-gay.

We got in touch again just a few weeks ago, and I'm really looking forward to seeing her.

Tuesday I might spend up in Sonoma County area, where I was born and partially raised. I am toying with the idea of going out to Bodega Bay and doing something with the box of stuff that I have been putting together. I'm not sure if I'm going to end up doing that or not. We'll see. I just have really fond memories of being at the beach in Bodega Bay with my family through the years (my mom probably introduced me to that beach as an infant).

So, that's my story. If I owe you an e-mail or a phone call, it probably won't happen until next week. Maybe Max and Sophie will blog in my absence...that would be interesting (and perhaps instructive) to hear their side of the story for a change.

Happy Mother's day to all the mothers that read my blog, especially my sister. You're a great mother, sweetie. I love you.