So I Met This Guy...

A few months ago, I met this really awesome guy. He's cute, funny, intelligent, kind, genuine, hard-working, and gorgeous to boot. Also, he's in med school, so he'll be raking in the dough (hopefully). We seem to have a lot of chemistry, he's admitted to really liking me, and we text/call each other every day. Sounds perfect, right?

Rawr...

The only problem is that he lives six hours away. Now, don't get me wrong. He's not an online boytoy creeper I've never met before; we've spent quite a few weekends together, and oh what wonderful weekends those were.

Having a long-distance relationship where the 'long-distance' part won't end until one of us graduates is impractical and illogical, but if it weren't for us explicitly deciding not to label our relationship, we would be boyfriends.

This is ridiculous though. Long-distance relationships are only good for people who are in love with each other, and nothing will come of what he and I have. At my age, a LTR probably isn't the best idea anyway.

I feel as if I should cut my losses and back out of this before I fall too hard for him. I've already started experiencing bouts of jealousy whenever a cute boy writes on his Facebook wall.

Hate Crimed!

My roommate's car was doused with eggs, flour, oatmeal, corn syrup, and all other sorts of breakfast foods, with the word "FAG" scrawled into the mess the night that Prop 8 was overturned.

On the hood, it looks as if they wrote "F*cken stop;" I'm not sure if it's referring to Prop 8 or my roommate's sexuality.

Firstly, if you're going to hate crime somebody, at least do it right. Spell-check the damn thing, why don't ya?

Secondly, I'm not sure how they knew whose car was the gay one. I guess we should stop emitting those rainbow gases from the exhaust, eh? In any case, we're locking all our doors every night, and I've started sleeping with a knife under my bed.

Just in case.

To Catch a Cheater

I blame my recent lack of posts on the going-ons we've been having in the Big Gay House. Here's one especially interesting adventure, brought to you by Boskers and yours truly:

A few months ago, my friend brought over a compulsively lying, married BYU student to our apartment, aware that I knew this man's name wasn't really "Greg," that he wasn't really single, and that he wasn't practicing abstinence when it comes to other men, all of which he was claiming to be to my friend.

So, what did I do? I came downstairs, loudly saying, "Oh, hello KENDON. How are you doing?"

I saw his eyes widen, and he said, "My name's Greg. You must have me confused with someone else."

"Oh, alright 'Greg,' (I used my fingers to quotation mark his name) How's the married life treating ya?"

"I'm not married."

"Riiiiight..." (as I started to log online to the emails we had exchanged about a year ago)

"There's a guy who looks exactly like me. People confuse us all the time."

"Huh. Well, it was nice seeing you again GREG." And with that I went upstairs, leaving Greg/Kendon with my friend and my roommates.

Unsurprisingly, he left about five minutes later, mumbling something about having to help his friend with something. The next day, he sent me a few nasty emails for calling him out on his lies.

I suppose I should have felt bad for doing something so beyotchy and keeping him from having his way with my friend. However, I feel somewhat justified because "Greg" was trying to seduce me when I was 17 while his fiancee was out shopping for her wedding dress.

I don't really have any respect for those kinds of guys, who enter a marriage already cheating, and knowing that they will cheat during the relationship. It's one thing to struggle with homosexual feelings and not being able to figure things out until marriage, but what "Greg" was doing was a different matter altogether.

18 Going On 21

After pondering the reasons for me being single, I've come to the realization that nobody takes 18-year-olds seriously -- and with good reason too. I resist dating boys my age for the same reason that guys resist dating me. Us teenagers carry the stigma of immaturity, and no one wants that in a relationship. Before I turned 18, I thought that once I reached the legal voting age, I would be given some credit in society, but it turns out that even 21 is deemed to be young and deficient of life experiences.

I searched on Connexion for gay boys between the ages of 18 and 19, and came up with 5 hits in Provo... One of them my 34-year-old friend pretending to be younger. I attribute the few numbers to inner turmoil and missions. Few gay men, especially here in Utah Valley, come to terms with themselves at such a young age, and for those that do, few know what they want in life.

Because of all this, I've decided to put dating on the back-burner and focus more on making friends and continuing my education-- at least until I pack on a few more years and lose the pesky "1" as I approach my 20's. That isn't to say that I'll give it up entirely; I just won't be too date-crazy for a while.

The Worst Two Years

Today was Fast and Testimony Meeting in Sacrament. This last weekend was also Missionary Bootcamp, which I (thank God) was able to opt out of because of our family vacation. Unfortunately, the future missionaries in our ward marched up to the podium, one by one, to deliver their testimonies about what an amazing and spiritual experience they had over the past few days. I looked over at my mom, whose face grew more and more sour with each heartfelt message.

Afterwards, she turned to me and whispered, "It's hard for me to watch these young men and know that I won't have the same honor their parents do. I'm still not giving up hope for your mission."

My stomach twisted into a knot. How was I supposed to respond? "Don't," I said, "You're only setting yourself up for disappointment."

"You don't think I'm already disappointed?" And with that, she turned back to the speaker.

Then, between sessions, this lady in our ward I hardly know came up to me. "I know it's none of my business, but you need to go on a mission," she said intently. Before I could tell her to bugger off, she went on a tirade of how much it blessed her son's life and her life and blah blah blah...

I know this is just the beginning. I haven't even turned 19 yet, and already people are on my case about my decision. I can't imagine how many more times I'll have to explain myself over the next two years and how many persistent exhortations I'll have to fend off.

On a happier note, I'm moving into an apartment with 3 bisexual guys tomorrow, so at least I'll be able to avoid an earful of this tiresome missionary talk in my own home.

Why Closet Cases Remain So

Last week, one of my friends from high school called me unexpectedly when I was on my way to work. She's an intelligent, albeit close-minded, Mormon who is betrothed at the ripe age of 19.

In a nutshell, she saw a post on some guy's Facebook wall about him wanting to go on a second date with me. I thought that I would have to come out to her right then and there while marching up the steps to BYU campus. Fortunately, I was able to quickly make up a story about how there must be some confusion after he and I had grabbed food at McDonald's one time.

Then, my friend said something along the lines of, "Why are you hanging out with these people? I don't want you hanging with the wrong crowd. You're easily impressionable. I mean, he's gay."

I have a few issues with this:

• This post wasn't even on my Facebook wall, which means that she was essentially Facebook stalking me and the people on my Friends list.
• Who was she to confront me about this? As a friend, she should be concerned, but supportive. Instead, she rebuked me for my choice of friends for a good 10 minutes.
• Gee, thanks for filling in the role of my mom. I haven't seen you since we graduated, and you're only 9 months older than me; I don't need you telling me who I can or cannot hang out with.

Granted, she's still a teenager, so I can't expect her to handle a situation like this with the maturity of say, a parent, but she should have taken a less accusatory stance and reprimanded less even as a friend.

I completely understand now that I will not be coming out to her anytime in the near future... Unless she "stumbles" upon some more incriminating Facebook information.

Home Bittersweet Home

While I wait for my next housing contract to start, I moved back home for the next month or so, where I get free food, the use of a vehicle, and free laundry facilities!

Along with wireless internet that works about half the time, a room that feels like an icebox, and a midnight curfew. MIDNIGHT.

Oh yeah, and there's a drum set where my bed used to be.

Despite all that, I love my family, and I was very glad to be back home for a little bit, but those good feelings didn't last too long. Usually, it only takes a few days, but this time, my mother and I managed to go a week before exploding our emotions all over each other in a barrage of accusations and tears.

My mom and I are very close. We are very similar in that we are both stubborn as rocks, and very different in that she believes that I can "pray out the gay." She's fully aware that my faith in the church is dwindling, and that just fuels her desire to push me towards spiritual activities.

For example, today she wanted me to give my father a priesthood blessing (no way in hell I'm worthy to do that), and she wanted to enroll me in a missionary boot camp for a few days this summer.

Hence the explosion.

Blog Recommendation FAIL

Google Reader takes the blogs I subscribe to and recommends new blogs I might be interested in. Today, it suggested NBCSports.com.

I just laughed.

5 Types to Avoid at BYU

1. Flirty Freshman Girls

These girls are some of the easiest girls in the state of Utah who probably need to get LAID. They can be found decorating boys' doors with notes and cheap cutouts, and their grating voices are enough to make one want to smack them across their desperate faces.

2. Over-excited Future Missionaries

These guys post inspirational spiritual quotes as their Facebook status and go to bed at 11:00 p.m. in preparation for the best two years they'll ever hope to have... Running out of milk proves to be a testimony builder, and The Lion King is chock-ful of spiritual matter.

3. BYU-Obsessed Sports Fanatics

These people don't own an article of clothing that's red and coordinate their class schedules so that they can be in the same classes as their favorite football player. Makes me want to cut them open to see if they really bleed blue... Or just to cut them open.

4. Impatient RM's

Fresh off the mission field and sexually repressed, impatient RM's or raring to find that special lady to spend the rest of their life with... in a matter of weeks. They've got a diamond ring in the glove box in case a date goes really well.

5. Overbearing Religious Roommates

Sunday is Be-a-martyr Day. Oh wait, it's past midnight on a Saturday night? Turn off the TV! Only manna for you! WHY ARE YOU LISTENING TO THAT ON SUNDAY! MOTAB ONLY! SPIRIT MURDERER!!!!

And that's what I learned after my first year at BYU.

No Sh**!!! Zone: March

I've decided to resurrect the No Sh**!!! Zone because-- well, because it's just so darn clever. From now on, I'll be doing (or at least trying to do) Abelard Enigma's theme of the month. No bull. No shit. It's the No sh**!!! Zone.

For March, the theme is First Meaningful Kiss. When I think of meaningful kisses, I think of The Sound of Music, at the end of the "16 Going on 17" scene: Liesl and Future Nazi are dancing around the gazebo, and then... Nazi grabs Liesl and plants one on her! She runs out into the rain, screaming!

For my first kiss, I was laying on my bed, blindfolded and half-naked, when I was then attacked by my inexperienced schoolmate. Kinky Chink! Not very romantic. It also didn't help that he was an awful kisser (felt like I was kissing a freaking carp) and dropped gum on my face.

Admittedly, the sight of an attractive guy locking eyes and leaning in towards me definitely sets my heart a-pounding, but what is that, really? Adrenaline rush? It then leads to full-on making out, which --don't get me wrong-- is a hell of a good time, but is something I find to be more geared towards arousal than affection.

Looking back, my first kisses with guys have all been pretty earthy. I don't know when I'll have my first "meaningful" kiss-- the one that'll send me, flushed and and anxious, from the safety of a gazebo into the pouring rain.

*Note: I failed my New Year's Resolution, like most people do, but I haven't given up! I started anew with my "Whore No More" goal. Maybe I'll receive a meaningful kiss now!

Dreaming of Experiences

I just love posting semi-relevant pictures of hot guys when I blog.

The other day, I was having a lovely chat with my good friend and fellow blogger boskers, and like the good Mohos we are, we talked about dreams, goals, and the Mormon church. After boskers told me a couple of his dreams, I proceeded to list off a bunch of goals I had. (i.e. The typical graduating from college, finding a guy to marry, having kids... white picket fence, etc.)

I paused. Why did I want to do all this? Why didn't I want to delve into the inner me in the process of "Finding Myself" and discover true acceptance? These thoughts reminded me of an article I read about how happiness can be measured by the number of experiences one has.

I thought about this at my friend's sister's school play as well. I want to have kids. I want to drive them to soccer practice, help them rehearse their lines, accept their macaroni art. Hell, I'd even throw a football around with them if I had to.

I want to fall in love and then be heartbroken. I want to surprise my little sister by taking her out to lunch when she's at school. I want to be kissed in the rain. I want to chaperone toddlers around at Disneyland and watch their faces light up when they meet The Little Mermaid.

I want, I want, I want... I'm starting to sound a little pathetic, aren't I?

Landon's Mine!

*krrkt* Landon Carter, please come to the front desk. Landon Carter to the front desk. Thank you! *krrkt*

I saw A Walk to Remember for the very first time a few nights ago. I've heard nothing but good things about this movie-- apparently it's a chick flick classic. And guess who directed it? Adam Shankman. Who would've guessed? A homo making a film for teen girls and other homos.

And of course, I fell for Landon Carter, which is weird because I thought Edward from the Twilight series was repulsive. I gagged my way through the first book.

In any case, I want my own Landon Carter! This bad-boy-turned-good character was cute in all ways possible. I think the contrast of his douchiness in the first part of the movie made him seem even more angelic in the second half.

However, in order to hook a guy like that, I'd have to be more in character with innocent and religious Jamie Sullivan... and we all know that's not going to happen any time soon.

When Will My Reflection Show...?

This last week, my boss was out of town, which meant that Pandora was blasting its music in the office the entire week. To avoid the risk of having one of the professors overhear "Bedrock" by L'il Wayne or "Don't Trust Me" by 3oh3, I set the station to Disney and sang along to songs I hadn't listened to for years.

Then this song came on...

I love Mulan! Despite the movie being a giant chink-a-thon, Mulan kicks ass. Admit it; she's got the most balls of all the Disney chicas, which is perfect for her cross-dressing...

In any case, one line of the song in particular caught my attention: "Now I see that if I were truly to be myself, I would break my family's heart." (0:18-0:32)

My god. Mulan and I have so much in common. So as the movie progresses, Mulan defies gender stereotypes, kicks some major Hun booty, saves the emperor, and restores honor to the Fa family.

Wish I could have that storybook ending, but for now, I must endure dishonoring my own family with my sexuality. How long must I live under the guise of a celibate Mormon? How can I avoid hurting my family more than I already have?

When will my reflection show who I am inside?

Always Hated, Always Loved

Growing up, I was always either the guy that people liked or the guy that people knew was there-- positive or neutral feelings. I was never disliked. When my friends argued, I often took the neutral standpoint. If I was brought up in conversation, people would say, "Oh he's a smart kid," or "Yeah I was in his class... I didn't know him too well."

Perhaps it was because I didn't divulge much about myself to anybody, or maybe it's because I was always either quiet or nice in most social situations. Call it artificial, but I safeguarded my secret homosexuality with a smile plastered on my face. Don't get me wrong; I disliked a good handful of people, but my reputation in high school was a positive one, and people therefore treated me accordingly.

In the past few months, however, I've met someone who, despite my smiles and hugs, spews nothing but insults about me and to me. At first, I pretended to laugh it off and continued trying to be his friend, but to no avail. Eventually, I degenerated to giving him glares and snippish comments, and it is apparent in our social group that animosity is abound.

I'm not used to this. I'm not used to someone disliking me so much. To brashly snapping at his face. To snarling about him behind his back. To actually hating somebody. Somehow I feel that my actions are justified because he never accepted my olive branches, but I know that it's still not a Christian thing to do; I'm not turning the other cheek.

A few nights ago, my friend, when in a drunken stupor, gave me some advice. He said, "I'm going to tell you something. There's always going to be somebody who hates you, and somebody who likes you. The trick is not to care. Look at me; everybody hates me. Do I care?"

I've heard this piece of advice before, but for some reason it stuck that night. Of course some people are going to dislike me if I actually show them the real me. Now my only problem is... How do I not care?

Greek and Roman Pornology

The church makes me really mad sometimes. Yesterday, the stake presidency came to talk to our Elder's Quorum about a variety of topics, ranging from temple covenants to Prop 8. Thank God I was asleep for all but the last two topics, or I probably would have walked out in the middle of the meeting.

One of the stake presidency said that all nude art is porn. That's right, folks. The Birth of Venus, The Thinker, and Michelangelo's David is all pornography. He said that when presented with a piece of nude art, one should say, "That is not art. That is porn." Ridiculous. Understandably, I wouldn't want my kids to see an independent film chock-full of sex scenes, but I wouldn't bar them from viewing "The Creation of Adam" by Michelangelo. I guess my Mythology professor has been flashing all of us porn during the class presentations.

Not only was this man's statement stupid and close-minded, it was also offensive.

Moreover, when he talked about the issue of Prop 8, he just blew my mind. The manner in which he was speaking was comparable to that of a war general rallying the troops. He then proceeded to quote a student who had humiliated her professor in front of his class because he was a gay rights activist: "Homosexuality is clearly wrong. The parts just don't fit."

Oh, the naivete. If only it were that simple.

Let's consider a man who's incredibly well-endowed and a very petite woman. What if their parts don't fit with each other's? Guess they weren't meant to be, eh? Because that's clearly and obviously the only criterion to determine love.

Differences in Dating

In straight Provo:

• Introduction--You meet someone from your ward or through a friend
• First date-- Double-date picnic on temple grounds
• Topics of Interest-- Weird professors. Annoying roommates. Taylor Swift.
• Doorstep scene-- Maybe a kiss... if you're lucky
• Second date-- Just about equivalent to a marriage proposal

In gay Provo:

• Introduction-- You meet someone through Connexion or Craigslist
• First date-- Dinner, then sex. Shower together. Then sex again.
• Topics of Interest-- Coming out story. Feelings on the Church. "John? OMG I dated him too..."
• Doorstep scene-- Take him home the next morning
• Second date-- A second date? What's that?

Yeah... 24... Is My Age...

Last week, I stumbled across the fact that this guy I've been hanging out with for a couple months has been lying to me-- about his age!

I mean, I've fibbed before. In my high school stage, I had to pretend to be 18 to post on Craigslist. However, I always let the guys who responded know that I was 17. None of them seemed to mind too much...

This guy, however, claimed to be 24 when he was actually 29. Obviously, that didn't settle with me. When I found out, I called him and bitched at him for a little bit, and I haven't talked to him since.

His age didn't matter all that much to me (although 29 is a little too old for me to date). What pissed me off was the fact that he lied, and I fell for it. I felt punk'd. Fooled. Beguiled.

It reminded me of a scene in my all-time favorite movie: John Tucker Must Die. Setup: John Tucker is on-stage of his birthday bash with the three girls whose hearts he had broken. He admits, "I lie to get girls," and these douchey-looking guys in the front of the crowd say, "And it's AWESOME! There's nothing wrong with hooking up with the finest girls in the school. You're the man!"

All I can say is: that's repulsive. Is that really a way to get guys?

No Sh**!!! Zone: February

It just so happens that Chinese New Year lands on February 14th this year. Of course, it's been masked by Diem Sancti Valenti-- I don't see one post on Facebook about Chinese New Year. Despite my yellow exterior, I was never one to celebrate my Asian culture. My blood runs red, white, and blue. Location, location, location. I blame it on my upbringing; I'm pretty sure I was the only male Asian in my graduating class.

In any case, happy Chinese New Year! Prosperity to all, dragons, firecrackers, and all that good stuff.

My first guy crush (a.k.a. Watermelon for those who remember my first few posts) was born on February 14th as well. In my sophomore year, when he turned 16, his friends put up posters around the school advertising his newfound date-ability, plastering his phone number all over the walls.

I was pissed beyond belief, for absolutely no good reason at all. At that point, he and I were casual friends, and I wasn't out to anybody yet, so my raging jealousy had no justification. I think what frustrated me was the realization that he was in the market, and I was unable to put in a bid. That thought reinforced the feeling that I would be closeted and lonely forever.

I trudged around bitterly that day, which was incredibly stupid of me. Now, reminiscing exactly three years later, I'm glad that my mindset has somewhat changed.

So, Happy Chinese New Year to all, happy birthday to Watermelon, and, of course, Happy Valentine's Day.

And it came to pass, He was a woman...

Warning: This post may contain heretical or sacrilegious images.

My beautiful best friend got a makeup kit for Valentine's Day from her dad. It was one of those cheap-ass $10 kits where the glitter gloss come in little heart shapes. Now she doesn't usually wear make up, but we had quite a fun night anyway...

Jesus Christ! Yes, it's the same person. Witness my makeup skills. She wasn't the only one transgendered; she made me a geisha for the night.

Talk about a Jesus-gasm.

Dodging The BYU Fuzz

Lately I've been hearing that the BYU honor code office is allowing their employees to create fake Connexion profiles to catch sexually active BYU students, which I find only slightly surprising and very outrageous.

Consequently, I tightened up my personal profile by removing any personal information that may connect the account to me. There goes my Connexion life. I'm not sure if what I've heard is merely rumors, but it can't hurt anonymizing myself since I already have a red mark against me as it is.

Yesterday, this very shady guy started chatting with me. Usually guys start off by asking questions like, "Hey, how's it going?" "Where are you from?" "How are you?" "Nice pics. What's up?"

This guy, however, asked questions like, "Are you a BYU student?" "What are you doing on this website?" "Do you have any gay friends?" Frick, he sounded like my bishop! Moreover, he had no picture and maybe three words of personal info on his page. All of this aroused suspicions, and I promptly cut off the conversation by saying that I had to go to class.

So, this guy may or may not be an honor code homo-hunter, but the fact that I had to worry about the possibility is so typical of being gay at BYU. Sometimes I wonder why I even stay here-- All this red tape drives me crazy! I prefer rainbow tape, but c'est la vie.

Detention!

So, I slept over at a high school teacher's house a few nights ago, and now my friend won't quit giving me flack about it! Maybe because I just graduated from high school 9 months ago? I guess that is a little kinky...

But in all reality, he didn't look like this old guy with the little boy. That's terrifying. I just put it up because it's funny in a very scary way. If you look closely, it kinda looks like he has a boner too! Yikes.

No, this teacher is only 28 years old, he looks more like this guy here:

All right not exactly, but he looks somewhat similar to him. In any case, I didn't even do much with this guy! I'll admit to kissing him, but it didn't go much further than that. He was a pretty good kisser too.

So funny story: I actually saw this teacher two years ago at a leadership conference in St. George during a school-sanctioned trip. I was a high school student and he was chaperoning high school students. I was 16 at the time. Totally untouchable. So obviously I didn't even introduce myself to him. Now that I'm legal (barely legal, that is), I can do whatever the hell I want!

I don't know how I feel about that. It's strange enough that I'm the same age as kids that are off-limits to him (I have a summer birthday), but the fact that I saw him when I could have been his student makes it even weirder. Plus the whole 10 year difference and whatnot.

Damn, this sounds so kinky it could be some sort of porno! "School teacher punishes misbehaving twink." Catchy, isn't it?

Blindly Falling

I remember watching this episode of Cold Case with my family one night. Of course, my mother screamed, "Oh my! Everybody close their eyes!" at this part and tsk-tsked afterward at every scene that showed any affection at all.

Obviously I didn't close my eyes. Hell, the next day, I went on Youtube to watch them kiss again.

I've always pictured falling in love to be somewhat like this. Of course, I don't condone the fact that one of them is married with children. It would be best if they were both single and not in this black-and-white era when homosexuality was taboo. (Wait a second... That sounds familiar. Oh yeah, it's called Utah.)

This is how people should fall in love-- blindly. Two associates, two friends, who just get along so well that it makes sense that they become lovers. Camaraderie first, love second. When I saw Coop and Jimmy's first kiss, my heart did a flip because

1) It was sexy.

2) I thought, "Oh my god! His poor wife!"

3) It was romantic in a sense.

It was a realization-- that's what made it romantic, why they blindly fell for each other. Neither thought, "Oh God he's cute. Maybe if I hang out with him more, or flirt with him, or primp myself up, then he'll want me!"

But does this really happen in real life? Does it happen in the gay community? Maybe not, but if it does, then this is how I want to fall in love.

In any case, because there is essentially a community here where guys actively seek each other out, be it through networking, through Craigslist, or just dating, it seems as if a lot of guys really push things. Guys are searching for love, not stumbling upon it. That's exactly what I've been doing-- actively pursuing guys. I need to change that somehow.

I really liked this episode. It was tragic, romantic, artistic, and the two guys are pretty attractive. Then again, I'm a sucker for a cute guy in uniform.

This episode is called "Forever Blue" if you ever want to check it out.

I'm a banana

That's not me, by the way. Frick, if I knew Miley Cyrus, I'd be milking that for all it's worth.

*Just a disclaimer: No racism or offense is intended in this post or any other posts on this blog.

I hate being Asian. There, I said it. I've hated being Asian for the longest time. I don't hate Asians, nor do I think them inferior in any way. However, being raised in Utah Valley, where just about everyone else is white as (pardon me) rice, I've never learned to love my Asian roots. I'm a banana! Yellow on the outside; white on the inside. Please, peel me. I mean, just think about the stereotypical Asian.

Asians:

are nerds

are skinny

have flat noses

have squinty eyes

How many Asians do you see model for Abercrombie? In comparison, how many Asians do you see playing the lead character of a movie? Guys here in Utah Valley aren't usually attracted to Asians. The guys who do are needles in this haystack called Utah.

I just don't get it. Of course I'm never going to hook that really hot guy at that party. Of course not. Perhaps it's because I'm yellow. Perhaps I'm just unattractive. Perhaps I should move out of Utah. Or get a nose job. I don't understand it.

It's 1 o'clock in the morning, I'm getting a mini-hangover from tonight, and I'm blitching (blog bitching) about why guys aren't attracted to me. Fuck me. In foresight, I'll probably look back on this moment of self-pity and delete this post, but as for now, I'm wallowing in that self-pity.

Now I have to go do my homework for tomorrow, which just so happens to be math. How ironic.

Shallow Connexions

Truth be told, sometimes I really hate BYU. Sometimes I hate Utah valley. Sometimes I hate the people in the church. All this social pressure makes dating in the gay community awkward and clumsy. The only way I can think of it happening is online, and really, that is very lame. What happened to online dating only being for socially awkward people? A lot of closeted guys who want to date here frequent Connexion, Craigslist, Manhunt... and I've find online dating to be somewhat necessary and not very preferable.

There are psychotic guys out there. There are confused guys out there. There are guys who will break down and confess you to their bishop in the blink of an eye. Of course, there are people like that in the real world, but it's much easier to get a feel for their psychosis in real life.

Because of online dating, I've had to learn to analyze texts and digital messages, give out subtle hints, and to flat-out say "I'm not interested." Hell, I haven't mastered that last bit yet. That has made me more shallow, which is not ok. If somebody is going to catch my attention online, it won't be their personality. I mean, I can see myself dating a not-so-attractive guy if I were in love with their personality, but that is very difficult to gauge online. Trying to do so by meeting every guy out there is impractical, impossible, and very dangerous.

So what do I do? Filter through to the attractive guys and hope one of them clicks with me. It's a messy and bitchy situation, but as of now, there's not much of another way.

Curb Your Whoredom

Though it looks like it would chafe as much as giving birth to a sandpaper baby, I need to get me one of these! With 2010 comes a list of resolutions that will last maybe a month or so. For one of them, a chastity belt would come in awfully handy.

In other news, school is back in session and I've moved into my attractive neighbors' apartment. I found out they pee with the door wide open, which is kind of strange. My last roommate would go into our closet and close the door just to change even his shirt, so walking by the bathroom and seeing my new roommates' junk dangling about is kind of new to me. But hey, you don't hear me complaining!