Friday, August 03, 2007

Giving Up

by Rob!

Sometime in the 80s. Lost in Space reruns. The show would be much better if Major Don West would take off his shirt. I bet he looks like the guys in the JCPenny catalog. You know, in the underwear section. I'm not quite sure, but I am thinking he may be a better "actor" than Burt Ward of TV's Batman. Although Robin does wear tights. Hmmm.

I wonder if my mom is buying my whole "I hate it when you watch Days of Our Lives" routine. The truth is, I love it. I wish that show was on 24/7. Billy Warlock as Frankie Brady. Billy Hufsey as Emilio Ramirez. And of course, Steve Burton as Harris Michaels. Too bad there isn't some way to pause the TV. Those hot, steamy scenes go by way too fast!

School sucks. I hate it when we play kickball. Four Square is way better. And why can't everyday be gymnastics day in P.E.? Football bites.

I can't wait for Saturday! Grocery shopping day. While mom goes looking for the best price on generic pop, I've got to get caught up on my Teen Beat. I'm way behind on the news. I've got to find out what Kirk Cameron did on his summer vacation, what Joey-Joe McIntyre's favorite Jelly Belly flavor is, and which actress Chad Allen is dating. Chad is so dreamy. It sucks that he has a girlfriend. Too bad we don't know each other. I bet he'd want to hang out. Play Chinese jump rope or something.

I hope I have enough allowance saved up to get that Samantha Fox 45. I don't see why the guys at school think she is so hot. I think it's disgusting that she did porn. Why would anyone pay money to see her Virginia? I do love lip syncing to her songs, though. Naughty girls need love too!


20 years later. Crap. They're gonna be here in 20 minutes. Hide the Wizard of Oz box set behind the Godfather trilogy. Swap out the Bath and Body Works soap with some Dial. Put the candles away. Let's make this place macho! Too bad I don't have any Traci Lords posters to hang up on my bedroom wall. Is she still popular? Is she still alive?

Am I walking too gay? Talking too gay? What will he think? What will she think? Maybe it's a phase? I'm sure I just need to meet the right girl. Yeah. That's it. The right girl. How about the blond at work? I suppose I could convince myself to become attracted to her. Maybe I should think about her as I drift off to sleep...I'll have one of those 'dreams' they talk about and when I wake up...I'll be in love! Yeah! That's it!

Don't get too excited when Regina's "Baby Love" comes on the radio during the flashback hour. Don't let it slip that you saw the New Kids, Paula Abdul, Lisa Lisa and Milli Vanilli back in junior high. Embarrassing! Don't wear that lavender shirt to work, even though it does compliment your skin nicely...people will talk. Life sucks.


2007. Looking back...I can't believe how ridiculous all of that masquerading was. All the anxiety. All the depression. Tons of stress. What a waste.

I must have been about 25 when Danny Roberts and his fine ass were on the The Real World-New Orleans. Talk about dreamy. Here's this guy, coming out on national TV, a masculine guy dating a soldier. If this guy can say 'fuck it,' then why can't I? Why must I live in constant paranoia?

You're taught by your parents not to give up. But giving up was one of the best things I ever did.

I gave up pretending to be someone I wasn't. It was too much work. I hate hassle. I'm sure that in all my efforts to be more masculine, I probably came across as some sort of joke. Like when Scooby Doo would dress up in that trench coat and pretend to be human...with his tail wagging out the back. Stupid stoner dog.

Besides being constantly paranoid, I was hurting those close to me. There were a couple of times in high school that I had been asked out by girls and had to politely decline. Without being able to tell them the real reason, they'd often go away crushed; feelings hurt. Some of those friendships were never the same again. I was sick of hurting my friends, hurting myself, and being alone.

Falling in love is not a choice. Being attracted to someone is not a choice. It just happens. I just don't understand why people can't get that through their heads. It's not about having mother issues, no father, too much estrogen, not enough Jesus. None of that matters. We are attracted to different people the same way we are attracted to different colors, different music, foods, TV shows, colognes.

I don't mean to put one plight above another. Yet it's hard to hide the fact that you are a Black. Or an Asian. Or a woman. But hiding your homosexuality? It's pretty easy. In fact, even if you are a nelly straight out of Paul Lynde's closet, just keeping to yourself should do just fine. No one will ask...for fear that they might catch a case of the gay. Or AIDS! Yikes! It's the ease of hiding that makes it so hard for us to tear down the wall.

I'm glad I was able to see a role model in some two-bit reality star. We need more role models. No one has anything to be ashamed about. Get out there and be proud. You don't have to be famous. You don't have to be the Grand Marshall of the Pride Parade. You don't have to be the poster boy for some smutty bathhouse. You just have to be yourself. Go and show others that being gay isn't about being dressed in pink and listening to Barbara Streisand (although she is divine, isn't she?) And not every gay likes to get it up the tush.

We all need to stop acting like someone else and start being ourselves. And I'm not just talking about the gays out there. This message is for everyone. Be who you want to be, dammit! Do what feels right. Don't try to live according to someone else's rules. Who cares what a book or a celibate man has to say? Do what feels right. Be happy. Make yourself happy. Love yourself. Love each other. Respect.



Our guest blogger Rob! writes that superfab pop culture blog Welcome To The Bloghouse. His current favorite TV show is So You Think You Can Dance and he will give you a blow-by-blowjob account of Wade Robson's tight ass. Make sure to check out his archives.


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Other really gay posts:

Coming To Terms - nate, a visitor, mongers hate and flings curses.

My Fiscal Year - I already came out to my family--sorta.

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