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December, 1999The events of the last two days in Seattle are very disturbing to me. I'm not happy about it at all. I love Seattle and expect that it could well be my next home. Its been less than two weeks since I was there, and I just can't connect the hip and happy city I was in with what I'm seeing in the news now. It's tragic what's going on in that city, on many fronts.
The World Trade Organization (WTO) is meeting with 6,000 international delegates in attendance to discuss international trade agreements for the twenty first century. No matter what position Americans take on international trade, surely we all recognize that it's to our advantage to take a leadership role in the discussions, and recognize that it's an honor to us that the discussions are being held on our soil. The reception that America has given the world is unworthy of our position as leaders of the Free World and will be a nasty, embarrassing black mark on America's and Seattle's history that can never be erased.
Before I draw some conclusions about the violent protests, I'd like to discuss the issue of international trade. In the 80's, there was a great deal of concern over what was called "the trade deficit". Americans were very worried that we were importing far more foreign products than we were exporting to foreign countries in terms of real cash value. The misinformed worry was that American consumers were selling out American workers by buying foreign products. Although this issue no longer appears in the media, and the trade balance is not as lop-sided as it was in the 80's due to the economic crash in Japan, we still import more than we export.
This isn't really an imbalance, however. Simply looking at the flow of the cash value of goods across our boarders is meaningless, because it's really only half of the picture. The other half is monetary valuation. The relative strength and weakness of a nation's currency on the open market is determined by trade balance and restores equilibrium across the world economy. For instance, if German cars are in high demand in the U.S., then American business will need a lot of German Marks to buy the import cars with, driving up the price of the Mark to the Dollar. This will make American goods seem cheaper and more attractive in German markets and increase American exports to Germany, restoring equilibrium. Balance of trade isn't really a problem at all in a free market.
Each region of the world has different natural and cultural resources. By example, Columbia has high, uneven terrain, that wouldn't be good for corn farming, but makes great coffee. New Zealand is too chilly to grow sugar cane, but has wonderful grazing land for sheep. The U.S. has such a high standard of living that few citizens would ever think of harvesting crops in a field for a living, but has an educated enough population we can design computers and develop special effects technology for movies. If each region of the world can freely offer what it does best in trade for what the other regions do best, we all benefit from economies of scale. The good life is cheaper and available to more of the global population when we all cooperate. Isolationism drives up prices at home.
As you can guess, I'm all for tariff-free international trade. I want to be able to afford a good European car (yes, they're still better than the ones Detroit offers) and if you protect American car companies by putting tarrifs on imports, then you are making it more difficult for American citizens to have the best car available, and easier for American companies to grow fat and complacent.
There is a problem with the WTO that some of the Seattle protesters are trying to point out. Specifically, the Sierra Club. Here's what their spokesman, Daniel Seligman, had to say.
The WTO's rules prevent one country from banning another's products because of the way those products are produced. For example, a U.S. ban on importing shrimp from countries that don't protect endangered sea turtles in their harvesting techniques was overturned by the WTO after several Asian countries challenged it. Third World countries often perceive our environmental restrictions as a luxury they can't afford if they hope to industrialize and bring their nations out of poverty. The WTO provides an avenue for them to bring down barriers set up to enforce environmental responsibility.
What angers and saddens me most about Seattle this week is that these issues can only be resolved by international discussion. Violent protest solves nothing while destroying the livelihood of innocents. Most of the violent protesters are not from the Seattle area. The AFL-CIO bussed in over 20,000 protestors in an effort they perceived would protect American jobs. Thousands more protesters in Seattle this week were in Berkely, CA last weekend receiving training in civil disobedience prior to going to Seattle.
Although Seattle and it's people will be long remembered for such uncivilized and unworth behavior, it's not really the well considered and informed opinions of Seattlites that are responsible. Most of these hired and trained protesters aren't even from Seattle. And I mean really, look at these people! Do they look like they know a much about the intricacies of international trade and diplomacy? Oh, I know you're not supposed to judge a book by its cover and I'm not being very fair with that comment. I'll calm down later, but right now I have a hard time believing that these people made their own informed and educated conclusions international trade before they went out and acted with such rashness.
Another thing that bothers me. What gives these thugs the right to go around bashing out all the windows in downtown Seattle just because they have an opinion about something? What gives them the right to link arms around a building and stop the delegates from meeting? What gives them the right to beat up security guards and threaten the life of the Governor of Iowa? What the hell are they thinking??!! It's outrageous!! I might expect that sort of passionate outrage if Congress tried to repeal the Bill of Rights, or if the military independently started rounding up all gay people and liquidating them because they didn't want to deal with the gay issue anymore. But this protest is only over world leaders discussing international trade. Would these violent morons prefer we go to war to settle our differences instead?
Riot and protest isn't the way we change things in America. Here, we vote. I'm so disspointed with my fellow countrymen. This is 1999. Aren't we past this kind of brutish, uncivilized behavior? The past few months was the time for those individuals and groups opposed to the WTO to discuss their concerns with their elected representatives attending the meeting. Now, they should get the hell out of Seattle and let the delegates do their job. But before they leave, the violent protestors should spend a few days in jail for their crimes against the people of Seattle, and the AFL-CIO should be sent a large bill by the City of Seattle for physical damage, and damage to Seattle's formerly good image.
Wednesday December 8th, 1999
There are several things on my mind this week. I wish I'd had time to write about them sooner as I don't like it when I have to pile them all into one journal entry. Things come out fragmented and poorly developed when I do it this way. None the less, I need to keep up with events as a personal record so I will jot down my ideas in more or less the random order they float down the stream of consciousness.
I have reformed some of my opinions on the Seattle WTO protests last week. When I wrote down my thoughts last week I was feeling a lot of anger about a town I love getting trashed by irresponsible protesters. No matter how you feel about WTO, destruction of property and interfering with the conference is uncivilized and unacceptable. Although I'm still angry about what happened in Seattle, I've learned more facts about the situation from my friends who were there and from the media.
It seems the AFL-CIO did have 20,000 protestors in Seattle, but they were not directly involved in the destruction. I haven't been able to identify which groups were responsible for the violence and interfering with the conference. I wonder if anyone has? Those are the groups that should pay the bill for the damages and emergency police services. The Seattle Police Chief has resigned, recognizing his failure in not preparing the City for the onslaught of 60,000 plus protestors, and poor handling of the crisis when it happened. An honorable thing to do.
The Mayor should join him. Seattle's attempt to call attention to itself as a truly international pacific rim city while bringing in the spending power of 6,000 delegates for a week backfired terribly. Seattle's international reputation will probably never recover. The crisis cost Seattle taxpayers a fortune. Responsibility for all of this rests squarely with the Mayor.
Now on to another completely unrelated train of thought. My job. Long time ago, I dedicated my life to becoming an Astronaut. I was following that career path perfectly until I failed a flight physical and wasn't accepted into the Navy Fighter Pilot School. I was 20 then, and have been wondering what I'll be when I grow up ever since.
For the last few years I've been keeping the computer systems in an oceanographic research lab running, and occasionally going to sea on research cruises to collect data. There have been progressive changes in the technology and as UNIX becomes less appealing and valuable to researchers, my job is slowly drying up. Two weeks ago, an important research partner of my boss passed away. That has my boss, Prof. Chiu, rethinking his career, his research lab, and his staff needs. He took me to dinner last week and hinted about change being in store.
Chiu is trying to look out for me, which is nice. Trouble is, in order for me to remain employable at the lab, he said I'd need to become more of a data analyst than a system support guy. I have little interest in analyzing and processing data. Bor-ing! Furthermore, he said I'd need to really focus on my work and ditch my hobbies which he felt took too much of my time. That really bothered me. Although my job is tolerable, I live for my hobbies. I just go to work to pay the bills. I'm not a computer system administrator. I'm a race track official, a ski tour guide, and a mountaineer.
Do you see the problem? Chiu thinks I'll never be much if I don't totally commit myself to something. I've found a few things which, outside of being an Astronaut, I really enjoy working hard at. I spend many hours working on my outside projects every week. But no one will pay me a living wage for them! It's very frustrating. I'm going to have to leave my job within months, definitely by say, next Summer. I don't know what the hell I'm going to do.
It's like I'm 18 again, just out of high school, with no future. My degree doesn't mean spit to anyone. And I'm so sick of living in a tiny little student apartment. Why can't I find a career (yes, I said career, not job) that I love and pays me well enough to have an apartment with more than two rooms and furniture of my own (instead of my parents' old 60's hand-me-downs)?
The last thing that is on my mind this week is homophobia. I just don't understand it anymore. I used to understand it. Hell, just four years ago I was one of the biggest homophobes I know of. I didn't go around gay bashing, but I thought gays were sick and hated myself for being a closet homo. It took severe depression and being nearly suicidal to get me to accept myself as I am, and come out to others.
My friends were all supportive of me, with only one real exception, but my parents, particularly my Mother, were not. My Mother implied I was mentally ill or somehow defective. She thought I needed counseling and to see a priest. Funny how she thought I needed help, when it was she who had to run off to the toilet and puke when I told her I was gay. Grrrrrr!
I've been thinking about my Mother's poor reaction to my coming out, and thinking about homophobia in general, after the experience that my net friend Bryan had coming out to his mother over Thanksgiving. It was a classic reaction of grief and denial mixed with anger. Bryan is a very thoughtful, intelligent, and kind person. I like him very much and am doing what I can to help him through a rough time. It's just awful what his own family is putting him through. I'm still dealing with the aftermath of the same kind of situation in my life. Why do we have to go through this?! When is it going to end?!
Homophobia is one of the most filthy, disgusting social problems of our times because it often causes our own parents to turn against us. I actually teared up a little when I read Bryan's account. I felt so bad for him. Then I began remembering some of my own experiences and lost it completely.
Two years ago, my boyfriend Brent bought my mother a little candle snuffer for Christmas. He had to give it to her anonymously since I wasn't out to my parents then. I felt all warm inside when my Mom opened it and loved it. She didn't have a clue who the anonymous giver was, but somehow I felt like she and Brent had connected and that they liked each other. It was like a dream come true. Except my warm fuzzy feeling was a complete sham. My mother has still never asked me if I have a boyfriend, and would probably freak out all over again if she found out I wasn't just gay, but actually sleeping with another guy. She'd blame Brent for turning me away from my family and from God and she would hate him for it. Its sad he could make such a sweet gesture and my Mother would react so shamefully.
I think I might tell them about Brent after Christmas this year. They're always bugging me about how I'm so secretive about my life to them. Well, maybe it's time they learned a little more. I'm sick of protecting them from their own vile prejudice. I'll let their illusion of a 'chaste' gay son last through the Holidays so as not to ruin that for them, but then no more. If Bryan can find the courage to take his boyfriend home to his parents, then so can I.
Another thing which has been occupying my thoughts this week is the death of Matt Shepard . It started this last weekend, on Friday the 2nd. I was in a cabin at Lake Tahoe with 15 new ski Tour Guides completing their training for the upcoming ski season. I've been training them at the ski shop once a week for the last three months and the orientation trip to Tahoe is the culmination of their training program, as well as a chance to socialize and bond as a group on a shared adventure. We were drinking and having a major BS session well after 2:00 am when I discovered that one of the new guides, Judd, was in the same class at Laramie that Matt was in and had known Matt personally. That simple connection made Matt seem much more like a real person to me. Before, he just seemed like a tragic news event. Now I know someone who knew and liked Matt Shepard.
I have just enough imagination to put myself into Matt's last hours. The horror. It's terrifying that homophobia, an artificial creation of the mind, can propel human beings to visit such atrocities on one another. I was already thinking about what Bryan is going through when Matt Shepard's suffering and death suddenly became so real to me. It was dark and frigid outside, just like Matt's last night conscious, but I had to go out for a walk alone in the snow for a while to choke back tears again. The world is a strange place that it can hold so much joy and so much sadness.
I was in a bit of a funk early yesterday when I wrote my entry about unrest in Seattle, Bryan's parents and Matt Shepard. All the sad things I wrote remain true, but I'm in a better mood now and my emotional response isn't so strong. Although I concluded yesterday's entry thinking about sadness, the last sentence also envoked joy. A few, small joys came my way yesterday evening which I'd like to document here.
Brent was at school all day yesterday and wouldn't be returning to his home until 10:30 pm or later. We didn't plan on being able to see each other, so I made arrangements on my own. After work, about 6:00 pm, I went over to my parents' house for dinner with my Dad. My Mom was at an evening training seminar for work and my brother was taking a night course at the community college, so it was just my Dad and I eating together.
We talked about my options for a future job/career when the Ocean Acoustics Lab gig dries up in the next few months. It was nice to have some time with him to eat, sip some wine, and discuss the future. He is genuninely interested in me finding a happy future for myself. The only thing I didn't like about the discussion is that it assumed my future would always be alone, that I would always be single. My Mom hinted about knowing I have a boyfriend a few weeks ago in a phone machine message, but other than that, neither she nor my Dad has ever acknowledged the idea that I will one day have a special guy to share the entirety of my life with.
I guess boyfriends and husbands wasn't the topic of our dinner conversation. My career options were. I just can't help but thinking that if the assumption was girlfriends and wives it would have factored into the conversation. I'll wait until after the new year before I start forcibly interjecting my social needs into our conversations. Other than that missing, the dinner with my Dad was enjoyable.
After dinner we went out into the dark, cool evening to string up the Christmas lights around the house. My parents have put a lot of money into remodeling and decorating the house and yard. I can hardly recognize the house I grew up in anymore. It was always homey, now it's stylish and beautiful. The lights add a lot to it for the Holiday Season too. I've always enjoyed putting the lights up. It's been my traditional chore for years, and I always look forward to it. It's fun work, considering how much I love the Holidays.
This year, I included my Dad in putting them up. I used to want my family to wait inside while I worked on the lights. I wanted it to be *my* project so I could take all the credit, or blame, for myself. Of course, I almost always had a helper anyway. For many years, my best friend Chris would come over to help. Those were the years that I was hopelessly in love with Chris and doing anything with him at all with him was pure bliss. Somehow, the Holiday spirit made putting up Christmas lights together even more romantic for me than many shared activities. I was a little sleazy about it too. I loved watching Chris go up the ladder to the eaves where I could check out his very attractive body from new and unusual angles. *g* Of course, he was unaware of any of that. To him, it was just hanging out with a buddy for a little while. *sigh*
Dad was great with the lights. Sometimes he can really irritate me with what I call back-seat-driving. Obviously the idea comes from when he's riding in a car I'm driving. Being a racer, I'm a *much* better driver than my Dad. But he still thinks he's the Dad and I'm the kid and he knows the best route, the best lane to be in, and which cars I should pass, and he doesn't hesitate to give orders the entire duration of a drive. My Dad also has a habit of back-seat-driving in almost every other situation. Mowing the lawn, washing the car, dealing with extended family - he gives me explicit instructions on how to do just about anything if I'm doing it and he's there.
It's almost funny how predictable he can be. Sometimes I'll do what he wants, other times I won't because I know he's wrong, or because it doesn't matter which way whatever it is gets done and I just want to see him get all excited when I don't do it his way. *Rob looks down in shame with sheepish smirk!* But last night, Dad was great. He let me lead on the project I'd been doing for years and happily helped out where I needed it. He didn't try to tell me how to do anything. It was pretty fun working with Dad like that, and I know he liked it too.
My parents have been so overbearing lately. They think I'm ignoring them and excluding them from my life. I guess I am guilty of that, but I do it because I can't stand being treated like I'm 12 years old anymore. It drives me crazy, so I've just flat out been avoiding them. I think my Dad has finally figured out how to get along with me. All they need to do is stop parenting a child, and start befriending their grown son. I hope my Dad remembers the lesson and gets my Mom to learn it too. It would make family life so much happier.
My Dad and I celebrated our successful project at 8:30 with a glass of eggnog - from across the street where we could view our handiwork!
After the lights were up, I went downtown to meet my friend Mark for a beer. He's been having a little trouble with his parents lately and it seemed like he needed someone to talk to. I still have to be careful when I'm around Mark. He's one of those people that I just instantly got along with and shared a great deal in common with. He feels the same way about me. If he were gay and I weren't seeing Brent, I know he'd be my boyfriend by now. Of course neither of those things is true, so I have to be careful not to let my feelings get out of hand. We've got a good friendship and I'm not going to ruin it, nor am I going to hurt Brent's feelings or ruin my relationship with him.
Mark and I had two beers at a pub and talked about our parents for a couple of hours. I let him do most of the talking since I'd just had a fairly good experience with my family. Its amazing how similar our parents are. They're both fervent Catholic couples. Both our families never displayed affection at home, for instance hugs were so rare that I can remember the only one I got as a teenager. Both are families still try to check up on our every move and dictate our choices. Both our families lived in Europe for a few years while we were teenagers. The similarities go on.
I enjoyed spending a couple of hours with Mark. It's neat to have someone who understands where I'm coming from so well. He's also completely comfortable with me being gay and is always OK talking about it when I need to. Especially when it comes to my parents and my sexual orientation. He has a very good appreciation of what it's like for me.
What's also strange, is that our parents actually knew each other, long before Mark and I met through the ski program. We've both noticed that our parents have figured out that we know each other now and have kept tabs on our activities together by comparing notes. Typical! I almost have to laugh if it weren't so pathetic.
Long story short, Mark and I commiserated together, then I went home about 11:30. And that was when the greatest joy of the day occurred. I noticed Brent's car parked on the street outside my apartment! My eyes lit up the moment I saw it there. I couldn't believe that he'd come over! I knew he didn't finish school until after 10:00 pm and it was an hour's drive from his college back to my apartment. I also knew he had to be at work the next morning by 7:00 am and had an hour and a half drive to get to work. He was really making an effort to give me a surprise visit. I felt, hmmm, how can I put this? I felt like someone loved me enough to go out of his way just to be with me for a few hours. I don't think there are words to describe what a warm feeling that is. Especially for someone like me who has never thought of himself as being someone anyone would ever want to hang around.
When I went inside (I gave Brent his own key, so I knew he was already inside)it was dark and Brent was sleeping in the bedroom. I figured he would be, since he had to get up so early. He looked so sweet and innocent all curled up sleeping in my bed. *g* I quietly brushed my teeth and took off my clothes without waking him. I had planned on reading a while when I got home from the pub, but Brent's presence changed everything. I snuggled up next to him and gently woke him with a kiss to let him know I was there. He smiled and was happy to see me, but very sleepy. I'm a little guy and he's pretty big, so while we were lying on our sides I held onto him tightly, kind of like a kaola holds onto a gum tree, and stroked his hair softly until he went back to sleep.
It was soooo nice snuggle up with him and think about how good he is to me while I waited to drift off to sleep too. It made me cry a little to think about all the closeted years I wasted, never daring to allow myself something so basic and so wonderful. My friend Kevin reminded me not to take what I've got for granted a month or two ago. I've been thinking about that a lot since then. Brent and I exchanged maybe three sentences last night, but that was enough. It was just wonderful to have him there through the night.
I woke up to the alarm at 5:00 am this morning. It was time for Brent to get up and leave. Just like I'd arrived while he was sleeping, so he had to leave while I was sleeping. He showered while I slept on and woke me, briefly, at 6:00 am for a kiss goodbye before he was on his way. When I got up at 8:00 I felt content, rested, and ready for another day.
Monday December 13th, 1999
The weekend was dominated by Christmas, but accented by more time with Brent. I spent most of Saturday cleaning and decorating for the holidays, since I'll be leading ski tours most of the rest of my free time from now until Christmas. Saturday night Brent and I observed a one year tradition of going out together for a high quality holiday dinner together alone. In a high class resort town like Monterey, a high quality dinner is saying a lot. For just the two of us I spent well over $100, but it was worth every cent. Romance must be lovingly crafted, and we did well together on Saturday.
Sunday morning we woke early, but distracted each other from actually getting up until 9:00. Brent spent the whole day Christmas shopping with me. He drew first blood, buying a warm-up suit for his grandma at the first store we went to, but I caught up quickly. Shopping with Brent isn't always easy for me. I shop like a guy. I know what I want to buy, I know where it is, I dash in and buy it, then I move on to the next store on my target list. Brent shops like a gay guy - he likes to browse. Somehow we managed not to get too upset by each other's style. In a good relationship I figure you have to give in to the other guy about 90% of the time. If you can both do that, things come out about even.
That's all the stuff I'm thinking about in the here and now - getting from here to Christmas. It's fun! I love the holidays. But, on the back of my mind is my future. I'm going to be needing a new job soon, and I haven't been addressing that fact well. I'm kinda waiting until after the New Year to look at it. I really should take some time now and think seriously about it.
I could either go back and get the rest of my comercial pilot's training, in hope of being a proffessional flight instructor. Or, I've been seriously thinking about becoming a school teacher. I know I'd be great at both. Certainly better than I'd be at data analyzing. My computer administration job is rapidly turing into being a data analysis job. That's what my boss, Prof. Chiu told me at dinner last week. Today, I spent the last hour of the day on data analysis. I fell asleep at my computer. NO, REALLY, I did! I fell asleep while trying to figure out how to read a binary data string into ascii characters. Data analysis isn't my thing. I'd just be leading Chiu on if I stayed in this job much longer.
I think I'd be a pretty good teacher. I already work with a GLB youth group and I know I work well as a youth leader. I've also got a lot of interesting life experiences to lend excitement and reality to the basic book work Jr. High and High School kids get. But, I also think I'd be a very good flight instructor. I've got a great natural abilty for flying an airplane well, despite my short legs and glasses. I comunicate those feelings well and would love to share the joy of flight with eager new students. The military could exclude me from being a fighter pilot, but the FAA will not exclude me from becoming a flight instructor if I can squeek past the eye exam. I'm pretty much screwed from ever becoming a rich airline pilot because I need glasses. Basic Flight Instructors make far less than Airline Pilots. Sharing the joy of flight with new students might make up for the lack of money. Might.
Teacher or Pilot? How do you make up your mind what you are going to be when you grow up? Making one decision instantly excludes so many other possibilities. Possibilities unknown. I have no idea what to do, and little time to decide. Hmmm, sounds like relationships, doesn't it?
Friday December 17th, 1999
It's amazing how fast a week can go by sometimes. I'm writing on a bit of stolen time just at the moment, from my lab at work. Here's a quick summary of the week, just for accounting purposes. Monday began with work, then a few hours volunteering at the Ski Shop. Tuesday was work, and the Ski Shop christmas party. Wednesday was work, then I went to my parents' house to decorate the Christmas tree and have dinner, and then zoomed over to Brent's house to watch South Park. Thursday, I worked again, volunteered at the Ski Shop again, then met Brent back at my place for a late dinner. Friday, today, I woke up with Brent and, well, never you mind. I went to work and got some work done including writing this. In a few hours I'll be hopping on a tour van with my friend Mark to conduct a weekend ski tour up to Tahoe.
Since I have very little time to write, I'd like to refer avid journal readers to that of my friend Bryan. I am so incredibly proud of this guy and what he has accomplished for himself and his family in the last month. He had the misfortune of being forced to come out to his parents before he was really ready to and, with the help of his friends and especially his boyfriend Matt, he has managed to survive the ordeal with grace.
Coming out to parents is, in my opinion, the hardest thing we GLB folk ever have to do. There are so many unspoken rules of behavior, rules of tradition, and unconciouss emotional bonds between parent and child. Revealing same sex orientation to parents rocks all of that to the core. I went through it with my parents three years ago and its still not settled. It just amazes me that Bryan found the moral courage to go through with it at the age of 19. He'll be rewarded for his courage to do this throughout his life, but he'll probably never know the full extent of his rewards because he'll never have to suffer a closeted adult life. I think that's wunnerful.
So, rather than reading my pages today, treat yourself to
Bryan's
page and read about his trauma and personal courage since a little before Thanksgiving. You're bound to be impressed with him. I know I am.
Monday December 20th, 1999
I wanted to post an update earlier in the week but for some reason my web host, Xoom, decided to 404 my pages for a while. At first I was puzzled, then angry. I guess you get what you pay for, but still, I provide Xoom with quality content so their advertisers get exposure. I expect a little service. They never explained to me why they removed my pages and blocked my ftp access, nor did they reply to any of the e mail complaints I sent. Since I've never been in violation of TOS, I'd like to know why they pulled the plug on "My Back Pages". Obviously, since this is now posted on Xoom, they've restored my site. But again, they did so with no explaination. I like Xoom, but I think I want a little more respect than that. Anyways, on with Monday's entry, two days late...
I'm back in Monterey this week for Christmas after a weekend at Lake Tahoe. I went with my friend Mark who is a fellow Ski Tour Guide in winter and race official in summer. It was actually Mark's tour, and I was just riding up to the mountains for fun since all the seats on the tour didn't sell out. I had to pay for lift tix, but that's all.
Mark's a much better skiier than I am, but I tried to keep up. Most of the time I'd see him for the first part of a run, then end up meeting him at the bottom again, near the lift, after he cruised on down. After skiing all day, we went to one of the big casinos and found a bar selling margaritas for $.99. We talked at length about a girl he was interested in, and had gone out with twice, but was now giving him the brush off. He was a little hurt, but more confused, because the brush off wasn't complete.
She seemed to invite him to try again later. I tried to tell Mark not to worry about it too much, after all he doesn't have a lot of his life invested in her. Only a few hours. He thinks he'll try one more time and if that doesn't work, he'll just move on.
During the conversation Mark asked me about guys I've met and been interested in, and how it went with them. He wanted to compare my experiences to his in order to help him solve his current difficulties. Mark has got to have *the* best attitude concerning my sexual orientation of all my straight friends. The way he asked me about my past relationships showed that he viewed my romantic interests as valid and as comparable to his own.
Mark really made me feel normal and accepted in our conversation. You know, dating has always been such an issue with me that I've never even had a conversation with a friend, gay or straight, about a relationship they were persuing. Without even realizing what he was doing, Mark made me feel that he liked me and trusted me for who I am - not despite who I am. He made my orientation an integral part of the conversation and treated it as equal to his own. He wasn't trying to be politically correct or respecting diversity. It was all unconscious on his part. He just doesn't find homosexuality any different than heterosexuality. Amazing. What a great friend I've found in Mark. He even knows I think he's very cute and takes it for the compliment it is. He's honestly flattered by it, even though there isn't a queer bone in his body. I wish more straight guys were so confident in their orientation that they could be friends with gay guys on equal terms.
Tuesday December 28th, 1999
Poor Whiskers, one of my two rats, has pneumonia. I took him to the vet's today to get sorted out. He's started a regimine of antibiotics, but his prognosis is poor. Dr. Kocher said that pneumonia is enormously common in rats and is one of their leading causes of death. Nonetheless I've decided to try and treat the little guy. His breathing is quite labored and he's very tired, but if the antibiotics are going to work I should see an improvement in a day or two. If not, well, I don't like to think about it but I can't let poor Whiskers go on like this for too much longer with no chance of regaining his health.
Other than Whisker's illness, the holidays are going well for me. I'm taking the whole week off of work to relax, and to think about my future. I've got a lot of life goals to examine and with numbers like 2000 showing up on the calendar in only a few days, I've been in a very pensive mood. My thoughts aren't even well formulated enough to write about here, but they undoubtedly shall be in a day or two.
Thanks to all of you who sent me good wishes for the Christmas holidays!