Sundance Refreshment

As I've been volunteering at Sundance Film Festival, which of course attracts people from all over, I've had some glimmers of hope in the dating-interest department. Despite having to keep from laughing at the many pretentious and self-important people there, I was refreshed to see a few people I suspected were gay and who seemed well-adjusted, comfortable, genuine, and even...dare I say it...soulful. I checked the name badge of one such person with whom I interacted briefly in my capacity as a volunteer who immediately struck me as an interesting and sincere-seeming person: Ricky S. Turns out he's a producer and vice chair of The Trevor Project. I held back from being flirtatious but totally did a double-take and looked him in the eyes for a moment. Ha, I think he noticed, but I don't think 'flattered' would describe his return expression, so I quickly focused on the task at hand.

And then a really beautiful female volunteer joined me, and she seemed a bit shy or otherwise distant, so I talked with her, and she engaged, but she always kept her face pointed slightly away, looking at me somewhat askance, looking into the room we were in but glancing over and leaning in slightly when I'd talk to her. I figured she was either uncomfortable--maybe I had a dangling booger or she was afraid I was trying to come on to her and was trying to make it clear she wasn't interested--or maybe--though it seemed more of a stretch because she was the kind of woman who probably gets a lot of attention from men and who probably wouldn't be into guys like me--maybe she was actually attracted or something and was trying to play it cool. I realized, for the second time in the last month, "Wow, I have no idea how most career-oriented, financially independent, image-conscious adults approach dating and flirtation, let alone most women my age who have careers and would probably regard me as all kinds of ineligible for a real relationship even if I were straight. I just know how to flirt with Mormon types or college students." But I like direct, honest, games-free interaction. I like people who don't care much about money and social networking. To be honest, I'm more accustomed to college-level interaction than typical, urban thirty-something interaction.

For example, I sent flirtatious glances to the cute-seeming guy outside the projector room of the theater I've been working in...and when I accidentally grabbed or brushed him through the curtain when I reached to pull it aside just as he was passing through, and I said, "Oh, excuse me," and he said, "No, you're fine," and then the smile and nod I gave him as he left which he returned with a sort of grin/smirk as he left last night that I couldn't quite figure out: was he flirting? Was he flattered but not interested or not even gay? Was he amused at my obvious inexperience? Was he thinking of a completely unrelated joke? Am I in high school? Yeah, letting it go. ...But if I see him again, I will probably strike up a conversation out of curiosity. Just sayin'.

Frustratingly ambiguous server...

Speaking of adorable and hot, I was eating with some friends at a restaurant in West Yellowstone recently, and one of the hosts behind the counter caught my eye. My first impression was that he was probably cute (I hadn't had a good look) and quite possibly gay. I casually caught a glance as we were led to our table, and he caught me looking back, returning my glance with one I had a hard time interpreting. But it was OK because on closer inspection, I decided he really wasn't "my type", so it was easy to shrug it off and move on.

...Until he came to take our orders. Of course he'd be our server. One of my friends was quickly smitten, but I was more reserved. Until his personality started to come out, and he was so charming, engaging, fun, polite, easy-going...and oh, look at that smile! So cute! And oh, nice arms, too. He's not only adorable but kinda hot! How had I missed that before? ...Oh yeah, because I'm a face guy. OK, so I became a bit smitten, too, but I tried to play it casual. At one point, I decided to just throw something out there and told him he reminded me of Topher Grace, which he said he gets all the time and also gets Tobey Maguire. He had fun with it. My friends accused me of being a flirt. How dare they? I wasn't flirting. I may have been...testing a bit. OK, testing by half-flirting. But I couldn't get a clear reading from him.

From my vantage point, I could see into the kitchen in the back, and he walked by with his hand sort of dangling in a stereotypically gay way. My eyebrow went up, and I noticed him acting a bit flamboyant as he told a coworker a story, and I reported my finding to my friends, who were now wishing they'd sat where I sat. At one point, I glanced into the kitchen to see him dart a glance from inside the kitchen right to us. He totally caught me looking at him, or was it the other way around? Shoot, I couldn't tell. But if you know me, you know how much I enjoy a good puzzle, so this was fun. He seemed unfazed and carried on with the same engaging demeanor as always, stopping to banter with us here and there but never in an overtly flirty way, just really friendly and smiley. But despite the signs, my 'dar was still giving a frustratingly ambiguous reading. Shoot...now I was suspecting he was one of those straight guys who enjoys getting attention from people, even gay guys, and just rolls with it, especially if there's a good tip in it for him. At the risk of seeming like one of those creepy old single guys who flirts with anyone who's friendly, I just shrugged and enjoyed the banter.

When asked how big a dessert portion was (or something like that), he showed us with his hands how big around, and I stifled a smile as I noticed the shape he showed was, for the friend asking, perfectly framing his...eh...belt buckle area. I snagged the opportunity to pretend this was the first time I had noticed his belt (which I liked) and asked him where he got it, and he said he bought it from Express...online...OK, big ol' red flag on that one. But hey, some straight guys shop at Express, though not so much guys in Montana, but he explained he discovered Express in Texas and really liked it. So no jumping to conclusions. But going online to buy clothes from Express...when you live in Montana...hm...

By this time, straight or not, I informed my buddies I had decided I was going to leave him a note about how much fun he was and maybe leave my number "just in case" for kicks and grins. Part of the whole "vacation" experience, right? I've only left my number for a server one time, so I'm no seasoned veteran, but I figured I'd risk the awkwardness for a funny memory. Much to my dismay, he brought us the bill and informed us we could take it to the register to pay. I had no pen, no paper to leave a note on, and I couldn't exactly give the note to the cashier. I thought about asking the cashier to pass a note on, but what if I'd be putting him in an uncomfortable position? No, I was thwarted, and we didn't even get his name. Gosh, I'm such an amateur.

I may have to stop in for dessert there the next time I'm in West Yellowstone, a sucker for their secret weapon, which sure as heck ain't the fine cuisine!

Getting Connexted

Alright, if I were wanting to date, this whole online social network thing might not be such a terrible thing after all. As it turns out, I've already made a couple of interesting connections, run into a couple of friends I didn't know were on there, and even ran into someone I knew a while back but didn't know was gay. Aside from messages from friends, I've received close to 50 messages from fellows kind enough to welcome me to the community. Isn't that sweet? One even asked me if I'd like to have my...eh, nevermind. Let's just say it was a 'generous' offer I ignored with severe disgust and blocked that user from ever contacting me again. Probably 30 or so of the messages consist of little more than, "what's up?" or "how's it going?" or some variation, leading me to believe they aren't exactly taking a 'personal' approach. Some said, "like the profile!" or, "hey, handsome!" or something like it. Flattery will get you nowhere. ...Usually. Only 10 or fewer actually mentioned specifics from my profile. A few asked specific questions. I've replied to most or all of the messages in these latter two categories. Some have responded back, some haven't. Maybe I wasn't interesting or flirty enough. I'm OK weeding some out that way. If we don't click, or they were looking for something more along the lines of, "I'll show you what's up," then it's best to just move on.

I've carried on a dialog with just a few of them. They're mostly cute, not gonna lie, but it's all in good, clean fun, and they actually had something to say besides "what's up?" Some of the conversations have fizzled out, others are carrying on incidentally. No conversation has led to meeting up, and I don't really plan for any to, unless it's with mutual friends. Although I must admit, there's the occasional one with whom I don't necessarily have main interests in common, but our conversation has been fun and engaging, and he's ridiculously spoon-worthy, and I'm trying to keep my motives in check because part of me wants to cut to the chase and just make out already. No, I wouldn't do that, even if I thought that's what he wanted. It's not what I want. Dammit. Stupid principles. (Note for those of you who will read this as me being all "angsty": I'm kidding--it's totally my choice to follow my principles, and while I'm mildly conflicted between wanting something and wanting something else more or believing something that keeps me from doing what part of me wants, I think being conflicted is a sign of healthy...oh, forget it, call me angsty if it makes you feel better about life.) I can definitely see how guys get themselves in 'trouble' on sites like this, but there are guys on there who seem genuinely interested in getting to know people in the non-carnal sense, though obviously some guys who seem that way at first later reveal through their actions or words that they're jonesin' like nobody's business.

I also discovered adding pictures multiplies your profile views by MANY times, and I thought that reflected the shallowness of people on the site until I remembered how few pictureless profiles I checked and how when you're browsing, the ONLY initial information you get is a name and a pic, so it's a big factor. It's a little unnerving to see that my profile was viewed nearly 200 times the day after I posted pictures. I felt so...exposed. I had a brief moment of self-flattery when I saw I was the 5th most viewed profile at the end of that day, but I quickly reminded myself of the many factors that came together to create my one, brief moment of glory: new member, newly posted photos, added friends around the country, and had been logging in repeatedly all day to check the messages I was getting. Then I saw a really homely guy in the top 10 because he was new, too, and I was sufficiently humbled. :-)

I was also interested in the ages of guys contacting me because there are apparently some guys in my age range:

• 19-23: 11
  
• 24-27: 10
  
• 28-31: 14
  
• 32-35: 9
  
• 37 and older: 4

One problem: now that I've conducted my experiment and am running out of results and have explored but don't intend to start dating, I may be getting a bit bored with this site. I'll always have Facebook...



Addendum: OK, so one conversation has just led to possibly meeting up briefly. Another experiment. Here's to hoping he's not a pscyho-stalker rapist or a *gasp* woman...

...don't worry, I'm not naive. I'll only meet someone in a public, neutral place. ...I mean, except when I'm meeting certain bloggers who invite me to their homes...alone. ...I wore my chastity belt just in case.

I Don't Wanna Be a Lesson

I saw a preview for MTV's The Real World in which a young Christian gay/bi guy who is sort of (kind of) newly exploring gay relationships (though he apparently left a boyfriend to join the show, so I just don't know what's so new about it) was "hanging out" with another gay guy with whom he'd been making out, but he didn't want a "relationship" because he was still exploring what he wanted, so he told the other guy something like, "It's only been a few weeks. Can't we just be friends? I like spending time with you and I want to learn from you..." The other guy replied, "I don't wanna be a lesson!" I laughed to myself with a silent amen.

This Christian gay/bi/"don't-force-your-labels-on-me" guy seems to have a sort of fly-by-the-seat-of-your-pants attitude which sounds attractive on the surface and with which I actually agree in some ways (e.g. not getting overly hung up on culturally constructed labels). And I fully acknowledge I don't really know his perspective except that which editors decide should be on the show and what he's said in an interview, so I may be unfairly correlating him with my own past experience and observation. And he seems like a sweet guy who could be fun to know. But the kind of approach he seems to espouse, in my experience, often leads people (especially those as young as he is--he's 22) to live with a certain disregard for the emotional consequences of their situationally reactive behavior on others with whom they didn't confirm a mutual understanding. Glossing over such consequences frees them up to get what they want out of the relationship and blame the other person's hurt on their being too restrictive and small-minded. ...no, I've never been bitter about this, why do you ask? ;-) Actually, I've observed this more than I've experienced it.

Anyway, he seemed mildly baffled by the other guy's response, but I think eventually, most people will end up in a position in which they'll understand where he was coming from. Potentially uneven interest or emotional investment, mixed with the vague knowledge that this is someone's "stepping stone" relationship, can make for some messiness. But more than that, there's just something that feels kind of toolish about knowing someone regards you as a sort of "coming out" tutor to use until they feel secure enough to go out and look for a "real" relationship, all while enjoying and pushing for physical affection benefits that most people reserve for relationships of the not-just-friendship variety, when you already know that, if they weren't so new and volatile, you'd probably have been interested in a "real" relationship all along...hard to describe maybe, but it's just awkward and feels cheap to be on that side of it.

Of course, in many respects, I probably still am that new guy, so if I were to actually start really dating, I suppose I should expect a stepping stone relationship or two along the way. Hm, so mental note: don't fall for the best ones first...wait, that's just messed up. Ha, perhaps it's best to just play that part by ear and sort of deal with it as it comes. Thankfully, I have other things to worry about for now. I can put off that complicated dating stuff. How convenient...

Strap Me Down!

No, that's not an invitation to get frisky. It's a plea to help me preserve my virtue. I love how these moments come when I'm least expecting it. At a gym in Seattle. Or at BYU concerts. Or at local theater productions. ...I apparently have had it bad. I present the following evidence:


EXHIBIT A - Pretty-eyed gym boy

Working out at a gym on Broadway in Seattle (gay neighborhood) a few weeks back, I was rotating between a couple of machines. While returning to the chest press machine, I stopped upon finding it occupied by a good-looking guy with short brown hair. He pulled out his earphones and said, in an adorably gay but not-too-effeminate way, "Oh, I'm sorry, were you using this?" I smiled and nodded, saying, "Yeah, but I was thinking of using one with more freedom of motion anyway, and you've got it set up already, so don't worry about it." He apologized again, and I went to the machine I'd been thinking about using anyway. As I finished my set, he rounded the corner and, standing near my machine in front of me, waited for me to finish. I pulled out my headphones, and he said, "Hey, I changed it all back to how you had it because I kinda felt bad for taking it from you, so it's ready for you to use if you want to go back." As he said this, I looked into those gorgeously clear, blue eyes which seemed to attest to his sincerity, and I thought, "I think this is where I'm supposed to say you're sweet and you have beautiful eyes and would you like to have dinner sometime?" Instead, I thanked him kindly, and he smiled and sort of hesitated before walking away, possibly because it was obvious I was on the verge of saying something else but held back.

I sat there as he walked away, wondering if that's how it works for most people. I always thought it was weird that people just met each other in random places and asked each other out. I have guy friends who have seen girls on BYU's campus and eventually gotten the nerve to ask them out. Weird, I thought. I would prefer to meet someone through friends. But now I found myself wondering, "What harm would dinner be with someone you met someplace like the gym? At least you know you have one thing in common, to some extent. If it's terrible, you'll probably never see each other again, or even if you do, it's no big deal. It was just one date. And he really did seem like a nice guy. If I were at BYU, and he'd been a girl I was pretty sure was LDS, I would've had the green light from just about anyone. But he's probably not LDS, and those bosoms, though shapely, were definitely not attached to a woman, so many of my family and friends would be decidedly non-excited to here about the nice cutie I met at the gym. Oh well, they're not to blame for my lack of action. I'm a big boy, and I decided that on my own. It just would be nice to think the people I care about would be excited for me meeting potentials, but I understand it would be hard for them to be, and that's gotta be OK. I can't expect them to do all the understanding while I refuse to try to understand their perspective, especially since that's been my perspective, too, and could be again."

But moving on from those heavier aspects, I just smiled that I finally understood the inclination to ask someone out you don't have prior experience with, because their eyes seem sincere, and nice, and they are attractive, and they're obviously at least a little considerate, even if it is just with the hope of winning you over, and you'd like to find out if what you've seen is a facade or if there is someone interesting behind those initial impressions. I told myself, "First, you're just in town temporarily, so there's no point if you're not just looking for some fling or a hot makeout, which you're not, and second, you're not ready to ask out some guy at the gym with all the other stuff that's up in the air right now in your life. File it away, remember it, but don't act on it for now." I sighed and muttered a slightly longing farewell under my breath to the pretty-eyed boy who was now doing splits while stretching in the next room...which caused me to again quickly remind myself of all of my reasons for not pursuing it...while taking a couple of deep, calming breaths.


EXHIBIT B - The Cutie in B18

I went to see a couple of friends perform in a BYU Combined Choirs and Orchestra concert. An old friend from the college years who now lives here accompanied me, and she and I sat on the second row, right towards the middle. As we scooted in past people, I saw that our next-seat neighbor was a rather attractive-looking fellow, but the seat on the other side of him was available, so I figured his wife or girlfriend would be back at any moment. I sat down next to him and noticed he was reading a book. I thought about asking him about the book because it looked non-ridiculous. Then I thought, "No, you're here with a friend, and why strike up a conversation with some strange guy next to you when you haven't even gotten to catch up with her yet like you want to? Besides, would you be asking about the book if you didn't think he was attractive? No, you wouldn't. What are your motives, here?" "Ugh, why do you have to be so practical?" I grumbled to myself. And I turned and talked to my friend.

During the performance, my friend and I enjoyed picking out our favorites from among the men's choirs. Not incessantly. Not derisively. Just comparing notes and preferences. I liked the tall guy with sort of spiky hair near one of my friends and the other Peter Priesthoody one on the right. She liked the short-haired one up towards the back and the muscly one towards the middle. Good times. But more than that, the music was beautiful, and the performances were, as always, polished. Great show. "...maybe that guy next to me is watching his girlfriend or wife, and that's why no girl has come to sit next to him?" I thought. I checked his hand. No ring. "There's hope!" I thought. "No! Stop it. Wishful thinking, dude. He's watching his girlfriend. Stop trying to make every cute guy gay. Besides, look at those socks...he's not gay." Because I'm against stereotyping, right? *rolling eyes at myself*

After intermission, part of the show involved the choirs surrounding the audience. As I scanned my gaze from backwards over my right shoulder back to the stage, I briefly paused the scan on his face to get what glimpse I could more directly...and our eyes met. "OK, what was that? He was totally looking at me when I looked at him. Was that the 'I think you're family' look, or the 'I think you're hot too' look, or the 'stop looking at me, you disgusting homo' look?" I couldn't tell. It had been too brief, though I had to admit it seemed most like the "family-to-family" glance. I had a flashing image of kissing his kissable lips and tracing his jawline...ugh, why? No, bad me. It was a slightly strange experience, sitting there in the concert hall next to an old friend from pre-out days, watching a friend I used to be very attracted to on stage, sitting next to guy I wanted to ask out, with Elder Oaks of the Twelve just a few rows back waiting for a revelation from God that a nearby priesthood holder was lusting after the boy next to him and needed to be stopped by having Sister Susan W. Tanner, also a few rows back, come talk to him about the virtues and beauty of young women. OK, that was it. That was a mood-killer. Leave the BYU boy alone.

As we left, I noticed his white shirt had an embroidered design on it, floral if I remember right. I could still strike up a conversation. The glance, the lack of date, the shirt...no, on second inspection, I decided he was really young for me (not to mention I was probably too old for him to be interested even if he was into dating boys), and I wasn't looking to make new friends, and I certainly wasn't looking to find a date, so I let it go. Then he took out his cell phone and started talking. My friend and I looked at each other in the cattle-drive hallway exit, and we said, "Yup, that just got rid of any doubt." We laughed, and I sighed that the ordeal was finally over.


EXHIBIT C - Shirtless Wonder

I went to a play a friend is in in the Salt Lake area. Now, there were one or two fairly attractive cast members, but one in particular caught my eye. My friend who went to the play with me and I commented to each other that we were trying to decide if he was as attractive as he seemed. I was leaning towards "yes", but I just wasn't sure sometimes if I would think so without the make up and in person. Maybe a different hair cut? I wasn't sure. But one thing I did know: this kid made me wanna make out. A little bit. Then came the shirtless scene. I try not to be shallow. I like to think I'm not too swayed by a hot body. But I turned into a hormonally-crazed teenage boy at the sight of his rather lean, well-formed physique, so much that I held myself back from rushing the stage to get in on the action. I don't know who picked our seats, but I have a bone to pick with them. We were definitely on the wrong side of the stage. Mostly only his back! Why?! "Turn around, dangit! Face us! Up here! No! Writhing on the floor shirtless, all flexing and sweaty, and all I can see is your leg? I was robbed!" OK, it was at this moment of frustration when I realized I was pretty much being ridiculous. My friend ask if he should hose me down to cool me off. I insisted I'd control myself and laughed at myself, thinking, "This is why people tell you you just need to get some action."

After the show was over, I was talking with my friend who was in the show, and he just confirmed that the object of my admiration was actually a really nice guy. Dang it. That never helps. If you tell me he's a dirtbag, I'll just enjoy the eye candy and be done with it, but a nice guy? It's harder to just "get over" nice guys who are hot. But surely he's straight, so that always helps. Except...wait...after the show, there he was wearing...no...jeans that definitely not only showcased his physique rather well but looked decidedly non-hetero. Could we have a not-yet-out one here? I overheard a conversation among cast members about how difficult part of the scene had been when sexy-man was wrestling with this other guy and had pinned him down and... At this moment, the friend I'd gone to the play with leaned in towards me and said, "How're you doing? Doing alright there?" I turned beet red and started laughing at the comedy of what my face might have looked like while I was hearing this and probably subconsciously wishing I were the one getting pinned.

At one point thereafter, I was introduced to sexy-man and his friends, after hesitating but deciding, "What the H, why not say hello and possibly defuse this tension I'm feeling?" I was caught a bit off guard by his enthusiasm in shaking my hand. I tried to tell myself it was all self-flattery, but I could swear his eyes went directly to me, and he nearly knocked over his female friend to reach out for my hand. Friendly guy. Then he asked if he knew me from somewhere. I felt like saying, "Are you coming on to me?" or maybe, "Well, um, not unless you remember me from a couple of hours ago when you were hiding just offstage (above stage, to be exact), and I was looking up and fantasizing about you looking down and making flirtatious eye contact with me..." I know, I'm ridiculous. It was out of control. I wanted to find any sign to confirm he was gay and could be even slightly interested. We had a good, brief chat, and as I drove away from the theater, still cooling down from all that worked up energy, I realized meeting the shirtless wonder had, indeed, defused much of the tension. Thank goodness.


SO WHAT?

What's my point, you ask? I'm not sure. But combine these incidents with the random glances and attractive guys at the cafe, the gym, other theater productions, at friends' gatherings, or in our housing complex (well helloooo, cute neighbor who I could swear couldn't stop smiling slightly for no good reason while talking to me--no, stop, stop making everyone gay and interested), and I've decided: either my resolve is being tested as never before by satanic visions, or this is what happens when you're on your way to becoming a 30-year-old virgin (AKA sexual pressure-cooker), or it's early Spring and everyone's appetites are in full evolutionary swing, particularly mine. All of the above? Ah, hell...strap me down now, please.

Hypersexual Stint

In The Beginning...

When I first started meeting other mohos, it was all level and chill. We got along, no real drama, no pairing off, no awkwardness, mild flirtation was all in good fun. Then along came the one who was more "my type". And I crushed, and he crushed back. There was some pairing off. There was some awkwardness. Flirtation was no longer just fun; it was going somewhere. We decided it couldn't. We backpedaled. We got through it. My first mutual attraction with a guy, but not his. I found it easier to "move on" than he did. I could chalk it up to "I'm new and impressionable." He probably had fallen a little more eyes-wide-open than I had, so even though I truly cared for him, it was somehow easier for me to be pragmatic and practical about it: "we didn't want a relationship anyway, so we just have to turn that part of it off as much as we can."

Moho Supernova

Then I moved to the epicenter: Utah. I went to the Matises' and met dozens of new people, many of them attractive young gay guys close to my age. Go fig. At first, I was very reserved. I didn't know what to expect or whom to be wary of. I stayed a bit aloof, observing. I didn't want to "meet someone" or have another flingy thing. I just wanted to see what it was about, maybe meet some quality friends.

After the first couple of times going to the Matises', and feeling somewhat settled into social circles in Utah, I jumped in and flirted. I realized I could catch some people's attention, so I tried just to see if I was right but wasn't about to do anything about it. I knew people were watching here and there and might think me to be a wolf in sheep's clothing, but I thought, "What's the big deal? Have some fun and relax, and people will see you don't have to be sleeping around to be a little flirty and fun and comfortable with it." It was almost irresistible, this newfound ability to experience and even create sexual tension and flirtatious energy for the sheer fun of it, though I tried not to be whorish about it. I wonder how it was for my more established friends to watch me acting like a kid in a candy store? Were they disgusted? Slightly embarrassed for me? Understood it's just what many of us go through? Whatever they thought, I didn't much care because I was just doing what felt right at the time and enjoying the ride.

Looking back, I think I treated some good relationships dismissively to an extent because I was so distracted by the enjoyment of this enticing, flirty new world that I focused excessive attention on meaningless interactions that weren't going anywhere productive rather than working on developing lasting, meaningful friendships. I've never really been casual about friendships, and I don't think I was even during this more flitting, social butterfly time. But what I have done is ignored the more stable, deeper friendships because I know they'll just be there anyway, and all the new budding friendships (often with a hint of romantic and/or physical attraction) are just so fun that it's hard to resist.

Cuddleslutness

Then of course there was the grand new world of cuddling...with everyone! OK, not everyone. If I was honest with myself, I had to admit that I generally cuddled with people I at least saw as somewhat attractive or adorable. But hey, it's all in good fun, no big deal, as long as it just remains innocent. It felt nice to connect with people in a way I'd never allowed myself to. And I'd never really gotten into much trouble cuddling someone. I could control myself, so others could, too.

In hindsight, there were probably situations in which my cuddle-lust made things awkward for others. I'd cuddle someone in the presence of a friend who wanted to cuddle but wouldn't allow himself, so he may have been quietly tortured. I'd cuddle someone who someone else in the room wished they were cuddling. I'd cuddle someone who felt more of an attraction than I did, challenging them to keep emotions or hands in check while I was blissfully unaware of their conflict. But I was too busy enjoying it to even notice. I like to think I would've cared had I noticed. But I wasn't all about other people and their feelings then, though I've never been totally nonchalant, I don't think. But it was mostly about fun. Besides, what are you going to do? Live in a convent or monastery to avoid emotional awkwardness? No, you adjust and deal with it.

An "Ah-ha"/"Hubba Hubba" Moment

One day, at the gym, I was looking around specifically to find the hotties, to scope out the tightest physiques. No, I intended not to take them home and play with them, and I was not about to pursue anyone in the locker room...ew. But hey, looking and enjoying was another thing, and I did it...almost incessantly. After twenty-some-odd years of forcing myself not to look because it might make me gay, I guess it's natural to soak it up. I don't think I was staring at people like some sort of creep, just taking in eye candy where I saw it and quietly raising an eyebrow or laughing at my own horniness.

I knew, at that time, I felt somehow "different" from how I'd been most of my life. I realized that I was not exactly seeing "people" around me. I was not seeing humanity. I was seeing flesh. Hot, sweaty, sinuous, sexy sexy sexy flesh, sometimes with a cute smile or dreamy eyes to boot. Before I'd "come to terms" with my sexuality and "allowed" myself to look and be attracted, I would look around a room and yes, notice some hotness, but I also focused on the person, who they are, how they acted, whether they seemed nice, genuine, in need, or sincere. If they didn't seem like someone I'd like to get to know, the hotness melted away. Now, I was skipping the eyes and apparent personality traits and going right to the pecs, the hair, the abs, the jawline, the butt... I felt almost perpetually intoxicated with sexuality. And it felt empowering and virile.

Looking Upon the Heart...Or the Butt

I knew, intellectually, that if I was going to find someone with whom to have the quality relationship I really wanted (particularly if it were to be with a girl), I needed to stop looking around with my lustful eyes and starting seeing souls, not just bodies. I needed to look into people's eyes and see who they are, not just at their shapes to see if I wanted to bounce pennies off of them. But despite that intellectual realization, I also realized I finally felt "normal" in a way, and I shrugged and thought, "It's not like I'd ever go fooling around with some random guy from the gym. I'd have to have a real connection of some sort and would still be monogamous. So what's the harm in looking around for the heck of it? I may not be looking beyond the surface most of the time, but I know it's the personality that matters most." But I realized that was something I was now having to force myself to remember instead of it being my natural way of seeing people.

I felt a tinge of disappointment that I might be reducing the people around me to objects of lust just as I'd hated other guys doing most of my life. I could no longer scowl at guys who didn't seem to grasp that a quality relationship does not necessarily begin with "I'd tap that" but instead only look for hotties because I was doing it, myself. Then again, most guys in their twenties probably aren't even interested in healthy relationships. They're interested in playmates and getting laid. Oh my gosh, was I on the path to becoming just another clueless, relationship-stupid dude?

Playing the field is a natural step to getting to know yourself and others and gaining skills for a longer-term relationship, but does playing the field mean dating people based mostly on sex appeal and finding out if they're real people underneath, the reverse of what I'd always thought appropriate? I'm pretty sure playing the field should still be with people you want to talk to, not just lick. But playing the field could include having a little sexual fun along the way, right? And I certainly wasn't getting any younger. Look at me, I'm still alright for my age. It'd be a shame to lose all of my attractive, energetic years without ever putting all of this to use. Am I really going to miss out on experiencing the heights of sexuality until my youth is spent or, worse, I've lost my body entirely? And what if there's nothing after death? And I never experienced that kind of intimacy with someone? Wait, was I really asking myself this? "Who have I become?" I wondered, "Just another guy thinking with his crotch?" And I laughed and shrugged because dang it, after twenty-some years of being so practical, I was allowed a little relaxing of the ol' laces, as long as I didn't ruin my integrity (i.e. act against what I believed for the sake of what I wanted) or hurt people in the process.

Looking For Love In All The Wrong Places

I always knew, in the back of my mind, I did NOT want to become like all these guys I saw around me cruising gay dating sites or MySpace for hours, looking for hot guys I might want to date or hook up with. If I were ever going to date, I wouldn't want to talk about my dates only in terms of how good-looking they are or whether they're good kissers or good in bed (straight and gay guys alike do this) but rather talk about their actual, personal qualities. I did not want to join what seems a frivolous, empty world of models and hook-ups and drunken clubbing and orgies in the mountains. And I couldn't imagine looking at relationships, even casual dating, as anything other than personal and at least somewhat substantive, but I've never been ready to decide to have a "real" relationship, either. That made it tough to even think of having the fun I thought I'd like to have. Curse my inability to be more casual with relationships! Why couldn't I just see making out like I saw flirting: something you do that's fun but doesn't have to go anywhere or involve "real" emotions?

Sobering Up

After a while, probably somewhere around a year, I realized that I was not portraying and magnifying the parts of myself I most valued and respected, and I had "had my fun" enough to sober up a bit. Realizing that I didn't want to dive into the realm of sexual experimentation or actual dating helped me realize there was only so long I could play around before I was known far and wide as nothing but a tease. I was very glad I hadn't crossed certain boundaries in certain moments of abandon that would not have matched the nature of the relationship, even though I had really wanted to. I admit part of me still wonders, "what if I had _____ when I had the chance?" but I'm still glad I didn't, given it might have inaccurately shifted my perceptions, been against my beliefs, and put someone in a tough situation I didn't want him to be in (either ecclesiastical/academic sanctions or lying about it to avoid them).

Stop the Insanity

I started changing my habits, once I was actually ready to let go of the "fun" of them. I flirted less. I had come to realize a couple of things: 1) I flirted as a way of "toying" with the idea of more without actually following through, and 2) some of the people I flirted with actually intended to follow through, unlike me. I decided I didn't want to send signals that misrepresented my own intentions or messed with anyone else's emotions. I'm not on a total flirt fast, mind you, but I am more discriminating. I started cuddling less: physical affection often promotes development of attractions and passions I didn't want to develop, either in myself or in others, unless we intended to do something about it, which I did not. I hadn't been sufficiently sensitive to that. I decided to keep cuddling to a real, friendly expression of affection and connection with people I'd known for a while and with whom I felt fairly certain things wouldn't get complicated. I've fudged that rule here and there, but in general, I'm more judicious. Sometimes, I've momentarily questioned my wisdom when I've passed up the opportunity to be pressed up against hotties I didn't feel close to but who appeared willing. Dang.

I also decided that at the Matises', for example, I'd look for someone who looked sort of quiet and alone, someone I wasn't at all attracted to but who obviously could use someone to talk to them. I used to be so sensitive to the underdog, the outcast, or the shy kid. But I'd gotten caught up in less significant, more self-serving interaction as a habit. I also made a point to reconnect with those people with whom I felt I had related in important ways. And life started feeling more whole again as I started acting not out of attraction but out of compassion and as I tried to not just follow my natural inclination to talk with cute, fun-looking people but to act deliberately and try to find worthwhile, meaningful interaction.

Another "Ah-ha"

Well, the other day, I looked around the gym, and I realized I was seeing people, not shells. Don't get me wrong, I still notice the hotties and bite my knuckle at times. Hey, it's gotta be done. But it's not the same. I think I'm coming to a confluence of the two. Perhaps it's because I never let myself fully jump on the flesh-focus bandwagon and tried to keep that in check. Perhaps it's because I'm feeling in need of quality connection myself and am therefore more sensitive. Perhaps it's because not long ago, I fell for someone I probably wouldn't have looked twice at on the street but for whom I nonetheless felt so much affection and even passion as I got to know him, and it was hit home that I would never trade a person I loved for a shell that turned me on. Perhaps it's just the natural course of things for someone my age, with a decreasing sex drive and diminished "newness" in this whole "Whoa! I'm attracted to men!" thing. But whatever the reasons, it felt really good to feel more human again.

And the Cycle Continues...

I look around and see newbies going through similar phases. We all seem do to it differently and on different timelines. Some seem to embrace the hypersexuality as what they believe they've been all along but were just stifling for the sake of fitting the mold or playing by the rules they never really believed anyway. Some seek out short-term relationships based on a high schoolish, hypersexual approach rather than acting their age and seeking out long-term relationships, even though they claim to want more. Some go full boar into sexual experimentation, sometimes as uber-sluts, sometimes monogamously, and then decide it's not what they really want and go back to a more tempered, personality-focused approach, sometimes with dating guys, sometimes with dating girls, sometimes only with friendships because they aren't ready to decide what to do or have decided to embrace celibacy. Some experiment even less than I did but let loose with flirting and maybe a cuddle here and there, and that's enough for them to figure things out. We all have our processes, I guess.

I do figure I have some more adolescence to work through. Sometimes I wonder whether I have yet to go through more phases, like maybe a "college" phase of sexual adolescence, with more temptation to face, more beliefs to sort out and sift through, and more decisions to make. I just count myself lucky that my sex drive is likely only decreasing from here. As for you late teens or early twenties folks going through all of this, all I can say is good luck, boys.

Leaving Digits For a Server

The other night, I ate dinner at a popular local chain restaurant I swore I'd never go back to unless I had no say in the matter: Mimi's. I've never had anything there I'd intentionally order again. Having no say, I met a group of friends there. Our server was great. She kept the strawberry lemonade refills replenished just ahead of time, made good suggestions, and was super friendly and helpful. She also happened to be quite attractive, and one of the three guys in our group joked about leaving his phone number for her. I encouraged him. They had, after all, exchanged playful/flirtatious expressions. I voyeuristically wanted to see what might happen. Would she call?

But he wouldn't do it. Chickened out. Something about having a girlfriend already and not knowing what he'd say if she actually called. The two girls joked that all three of us guys should leave our numbers. I thought, "Ha, right. Because I'm all about picking up girls randomly like that." Then I paused and thought, "Um...she's really, really cute and seems like a really nice and cool girl. You're not about to date any boys. What the @#$% do you have to lose?" So I laughed and said maybe I would. As long as it's fun and not machista and creepy. I wrote out my tip and total, and underneath the signature line, I wrote with a slightly nervous hand:

"The playful guy in the yellow and brown shirt's phone number: (###)###-####
The hot single dad's number: (###)###-####
And mine: (###)###-####
I'm gay, but I said I'd give it a shot for you."

I really hope she enjoyed that and shared with her friends. No response yet to any of us, though. Maybe we should've tipped better...

I'd Hit Me

Ever have those occasional times, on good days, under the right lighting, when you get ready to go out for the evening, and before leaving, you look in the mirror to make sure you're all put together and think, "Heck yeah I'd hit that!"? Yeah, tonight was not one of those times, BUT it occasionally happens, and I'm not gonna lie: it's nice when it does.

A buddy I talked to about this, however, insists he doesn't have those moments. I told him I was surprised 'cause if I were him, I think I would. TMI? Maybe. Sometimes I relish the delightful quirkiness of gay friendships, like that slightly awkward line between affirmation and flirtation. But we're tight like that, so I think I'm OK saying such things to him (in moderation to avoid over-inflating an ego).

That conversation took me back to a conversation a couple of years ago with some mohomies about an aspect of gayness some people may not think of: turning yourself on. I'm talking fresh out of the shower, glancing in the mirror, and thinking, "yeah, that's not bad right there, I could do it for me". Now before you go thinking me the terrible narcissist, I'll just interject that this has not happened to me. ...recently. But one of my friends told a story about when a female friend of his asked him whether he's ever gotten turned on by seeing himself in the mirror, and when he put on his sheepish face and said maybe he had a time or two, this conservative Mormon girl laughed and said that was hot. I think people deserve a pat on the back for creative thinking that taps into rarely discovered/discussed quirks of life.

Oh, come on, I know there are others of you out there who have had at least brief autosexual moments. It's OK. This is a safe place to admit it.

...go ahead. Own up to it.

...No?

...Nobody?

Dang, this is awkward...

Eagerness of Youth

"A great thing about being single is that a great new relationship may be right around the corner..."
- High Council Speaker, last Sunday's sacrament meeting

Ah, yes, it's that time of year again. As I checked out at the local grocery store this evening, it began to really set in. The palpable energy of youthful vigor has returned with the students of local universities and colleges eagerly purchasing supplies and food for their new apartments and gearing up for another (or their first) semester of classes and activities and of course the bright-eyed animation of wholesome romantic interest leading to wholesome romantic make-out.

What jogged this nostalgic reflection was the almost adorably eager conversation between a fresh-looking young man and a fresh-looking young woman as he bagged her goods. Now, I've been out of college for a while but not so long that I've forgotten the beautiful rush-week energy of innocent romance mingling with pressure-cooker sexual tension. But as I watched these eager youngsters, I couldn't help but feel that I'd missed out on something in my youth by not experiencing that as most people do. Everyone has these things they feel they missed out on. For some, it might be growing up in the same place their whole youth or having family traditions. For others, it's happiness or health or other frivolities. But this one is what we're talking about now because it's my blog and I'll whine like a baby when I want to.

New semesters were exciting: meeting new roommates, going to a new ward full of fresh faces and new friendships, settling into a new apartment, going to the first classes and meeting new professors... And I kind of experienced the romantic thing. I used to joke about each year's "fresh shipment". But somehow, looking back with what I know now, what I've experienced, I realize that it was different for me. I only experienced a portion of twitterpation, not full-on twitterpation. I felt flirty with a very few girls, and that was fun. But it was never "hold me back or I'm going to do something that will land me in the bishop's office and I'm gonna like it." Um...OK, this sounds really shallow. It's not just that.

There's something so stinkin' adorable about the youthful romantic spark. The eagerness, the animation, the hearts aflutter, the bright eyes. I think most people would look with "aw" at such cute interactions, so long as their hands remain in clearly non-petting positions and they don't make suicide pacts over their newfound "love". But when I've experienced that how I imagine most people probably experience it, it's been with decidedly non-female people. I know plenty of BYU students who seem to have no qualms about same-sexing it up (at least in the shadows away from the watchful gaze of the Honor Code Gestapo), but I never felt so inclined to freely engage in twitterpative same-sex activity, even at a non-church school, due to this whole doctrinal belief conflict thing. And if I had done so, most people in my life would have looked at that with some degree of consternation, including myself. It's unnatural. It thwarts eternal destiny and causes the destruction of civilization and makes Aunt Bertha turn in her grave. Dang. That's not cute at all.

No, I didn't eagerly await each new "fresh shipment". For me, the arrival of new students meant a fresh shipment of guys, a newly energetic and virile bunch of hormonal geysers to resist casting in starring roles in my impure thoughts (which would be quickly replaced by the hymns of Zion). I quietly bit my lip day by day as I watched the fresh, tight-bodied new freshman guys throw footballs shirtless all over campus as I tried to quell this queer compulsion to admire their sweaty bods, thus avoiding the accusatory glares which would surely have shot back, while the guy next to me openly admired the beauty of the curvy girls sunning themselves in kitschy splendor, returned by flattered glances which affirmed his masculinity. Each new school year was another time to maintain complete composure when meeting really attractive, nice guys, to force myself to keep my eyes from wandering while walking past the frat houses on sweltering days, and to meet yet more great girls I knew I should be more interested in but somehow...who's the new guy over there? No, stop it: eternal companions have longer hair and more cleavage.

So if you catch me at the checkout stand looking a bit wistfully at the clean-cut, wholesome young romance budding before my eyes, now you know that it's probably just a tender appreciation for the sweet expression of young love and not some ephebophilic fantasy involving the nice young lad. ...though I make no promises if he's irresistably hot and obviously over 18. I'm just sayin'. But for your sanity, just assume it's the former, pinch me if I start to look lost in fantasy, and we'll move on pretending nothing ever happened.

Keeping It Real

I was recently hanging out with someone for the first time since meeting him, and I felt the urge to kiss him. I felt the urge pretty strongly. To be frank, I was having quite a horny week. I also felt the urge to pull his shirt off and appreciate his beauty with my eyes, my hands... I'm inclined to think, judging from body language and what was said, that it could have happened. Wondering whether he would reciprocate was not the issue. We were very close on the couch; a kiss was a matter of inches. Body language was indicating openness.

But I had prepared for this possibility. I knew I found him physically attractive and that we would likely end up close while watching a movie. I kept friends around to "keep it real" and keep me accountable. I reminded myself that I only just met the guy and that to breach certain physical boundaries too quickly would be to entertain physical attractions that were more intense than the emotional attractions or rationale. I kept boundaries enough to not lose my brain about things as I had done to some degree in the past. There's something to be said for not stifling life with excessive reservation, but there's something to be said for not stifling life with excessive abandon.

Maybe it was the horniness, or maybe I was just recently "over" certain feelings/reservations enough, but I was feeling very flirtatious for the first time in a long time. I knew that I needed to be "wise" about this because my hormones surely would be urging me along. I knew that when the hormones took back burner again, reason would set in and remind me that I'm not ready to decide, in my more sober moments, to pursue a gay relationship, so I'm certainly not ready to snatch the benefits of one without actually having one, as if that's some sort of compromise for being unfairly denied such a relationship. Really, the way I see it, whether or not I was to remain active in the church, I'd want to maintain caution and deliberation in physical matters because I think too many people go about relationships bass-ackwards, especially among gay circles. Call me nutty, but I think guys often stink at developing real, genuine relationships because they're too busy thinking with their crotches. But I'm digressing, as I so often do.

I talked to the guy that night and the next day about various things, and among other conversation topics, I addressed a few things:

a) My holding back was not for lack of impulse or rejection of him but was done simply to maintain boundaries I feel the need to keep right now.

b) I don't think cuddling equals having a relationship, but I also am not interested in using anyone for my own gratification because they're attractive and available and am not interested in being used that way, not that I thought that was his intention. I'd just like to build friendships without any confusion potentially caused by physical affection, and I acknowledged that it may seem weird or prudish, but that's where I am right now, take it or leave it.

c) I find him interesting and am open to getting to know him better, regardless.

d) I'm not ready to act against the doctrines and practices of the church (of which, by the way, he is not a member) by pursuing a same-sex partnership, so I have to be honest with myself and others about that fact and try to avoid sending or getting mixed signals or "toying" with the idea without intending to follow through if anything DID develop.

That is one of the harder things to get the gumption to say. It's so much more fun when I can flirt and cuddle and wonder where this might go but then put the breaks on as needed when things start to speed a little too fast. It's blissful keeping things ambiguous and tense, teasing and enticing just to see what might happen. It's much less fun to come out in the open with the fact that my flirtations are not intended to go anywhere and to dispel any hopes the flirt-partner might have of having a little tumble, as bad or arrogant as that may sound. Believe me, I don't think all every guy I meet wants is a piece of this. It's just something I'm more aware of and cautious about than I used to be for various reasons.

Keeping the curiosity alive is very fun and very effective when it comes to maintaining a male's interest, I think. But I've had a couple of friends actually get burned out by my persistent flirtation that never really went anywhere. They "didn't know what to do with me". I thought lots of people flirt that way, just for fun with no intention of follow-through. I guess I was wrong--there's most often a little expectation of follow-through. There's my naivety. And aside from that, I am generally not interested in friendships based on that kind of flirtation anymore.

After getting everything more in the open, the fantasy, day-dreamy quality of the crush went away, which is always interesting to me because it feels somewhat like being released from a spell you were rather enjoying. Part of me thinks I'm just really fickle to be crushing on a guy one day and then done crushing two days later, but another part of me thinks I'm just more proactive in making decisions with both my heart and my head and less with just my penis.

You know, some people might say you shouldn't over-think things when there's an attraction involved and should just enjoy the ride life offers you. But as I see it, I for one am not in danger of my penis not having a fair say in any decision-making process. That ol' boy is gonna make his opinion known whether anyone likes it or not. Seriously, guys, most of us do NOT have to worry about our nads sitting quietly by and being ignored. I can't remember a time when I've looked back and thought, "Oh, hm...yup, my mind got carried away, and I ignored the good advice my penis was trying to tell me all along."

Now, the heart is another matter and is more easily ignored by heady folks such as myself, and I'm trying to ignore it less. I think there's a balance to be struck between the heart and the mind, as both have their blind spots, and both truly matter. So maybe there's a trick in recognizing the difference between matters of the heart and matters of "let's get it on".

In any case, regardless of where such a friendship were to go in the future or if anything should ever develop, it felt good to feel I'd been deliberate and accountable in my decisions without pretending like I didn't want what I wanted. I think that's what "keeping it real" means to me.

Lost That Lovin' Feeling

*** Published 27 Oct 2010 ***


It's been quite a while since I've had a consistent...drive. I suppose my experiences with a few confusing friendships and observations of the emotional weirdness and NCMO sluttiness around me may have had some influence on my eagerness to engage in such behavior, but I can't help but wonder if I'm just plain getting old. Maybe I'm depressed. Maybe I'm "maturing". BORING!

I kind of miss feeling an overflowing sexual energy.

Romance 101, Part 1

Different Attractions

Deep, dark confession time: a couple of my friendships with male friends have turned romantic in the past few years. I know, I know, please stifle your gasps and maintain composure, people. You could call them flings, but don't go thinking we did the nasty. Just romantic flings, you might say, not freaky ones. They were nipped in the bud pretty quickly. I've never been in a "serious" relationship.

Still, feeling the animating, vibrant, heart-quickening excitement and happiness of feeling attracted to a guy who was attracted to me was disarmingly wonderful when I experienced it for the first time a couple of years ago. Both times I've experienced it, I simply didn't see it coming. I just became more attracted as I interacted with these friends, and we "hit it off," During the first of such relationships, I found myself sitting in a charming little creperie on a hill realizing, "Oh my gosh! THIS is why people date! It doesn't have to be a chore. This actually is fun to go out and just get to know someone one-on-one and see where the friendship leads! This is why people actually have to be careful where flirtation leads. For the first time, I feel the need to actually use a little discipline, and I like it!" I knew I wasn't looking for a boyfriend, and the romantic side of things, in both cases, had to be curbed. With this newly discovered romantic connection, my heart felt as clearly and naturally as it ever has, and it threw my mind for a loop because what kind of sense did this attraction make? Could it be real? Was it juvenile? Was it exactly what everyone else had been feeling their whole lives? Was it a positive and beautiful thing? What is this kind of attraction worth?

I've had a couple of intimate friendships with female friends whom I loved on some level and appreciated and with whom I could talk endlessly about anything and felt "connected" in a rare way, but when I discovered that the romantic feelings towards a couple of male friends I had known only a short time were so different, without any history or proven commitment to back up that attraction, I wanted to feel both with someone, and one or the other seemed suddenly inadequate when considering a "real" relationship with someone. Suddenly, I wanted to be open, intimate, and converse endlessly but be vulnerable to the other person as they are vulnerable to me. I'd never known that feeling before. I'd always been the one who was somehow more coolheaded and less emotionally invested. Was it possible that I wasn't as cold as I thought? Could it be I, too, was capable of feeling such warmth and affection towards someone? Suddenly, my female friends' vulnerability made sense to me, and it felt good to know I had a real, probably-breakable heart.

But who knows what a "real" romance would be like? One with all the exciting feelings and a healthy foundation? People seem to take them for granted all around me. Or are most romances every bit as shallow? Do most people just not recognize the shallowness of their relationships? Is that why divorce is so common? Is that why gay men rarely have relationships that last beyond a couple of years? Because selfless dedication to a relationship even when you fall "out of love" just isn't part of today's Western culture? Or is there more to it?

Regardless, I now knew I wanted the kind of romance where you actually feel "in love" and build the relationship. One with the foundation and the romantic feelings, a wholeness of attraction with a true friendship to boot. Not a fantasy, "perfect" friend to just feel giddy with, but yes, someone with whom everything else melts away, at least in a sense. Not in a silly, codependent or teen romance way. I don't think I have many illusions about everything always being rosy or the romantic flame always burning brightly. But I'm thinking of a relationship in which you remain whole and confident, your true self but deeply, fully connected and sharing, even vulnerable to an almost uncomfortable yet somehow comfortable degree...is this a foolish notion to think a relationship should be like that? Somehow, it doesn't feel like one.

I could choose to try to find such a "wholeness" of attraction, connection, and emotional bonding, but I sometimes doubt whether I'll find it in either gender, but I try to remember that everyone is an individual, in addition to being part of a demographic, so maybe I'll find someone and allow myself to experience it.

Nevertheless, most often, I feel OK about not having that and recognize it is what I am choosing. But this acceptance is, or has been, both relieving and disconcerting. And I've not come by it easily. And I'm not sure I fully embrace it. I've had my non-contendedly-single moments, especially after these brief romantic flings which brought out such a desire in me which, with the passing of time, fades again into the background.

When the romantic feelings are fresh in my soul, they seem ultimately important, the richest of emotions and experience, and when they're distant, they often seem somewhat superfluous, fanciful and delirious. Could they be all of the above in different applications? What are these feelings all about? What do I want? What's most important to me in life? Do I really have to choose between mutually exclusive options?

But look at me, going off into more heady analysis. I wanted to share a little about my personal experience with romantic feelings, shallow or brief as it may be. But that's another entry...




On to Part 2.

Back to Preface.

I Am Not a Piece of Meat!

At the gym, it really grosses me out when some random guy looks at me like a piece of meat. Part of me would like to flatter myself by saying this happens often, but if you know me, you know I'm not especially meaty, so it doesnt. But every once in a while, I apparently strike the fancy of some over-sexualized guy, probably with a pedophilic streak, and it makes me want to vomit a little when someone looks at me like they want me to be their loveslave, especially without ever having talked to me. It's so ridiculously sleazy. It's not really that it makes me feel gross about myself or anything. It just doesn't help their chances of me ever wanting to interact with them in any way.

Don't get me wrong, I admire beauty from afar and have occasionally thought, "Oh wow, I'd like to have fun with that," but that's in a more playful, knuckle-biting way, and I would not actually follow through on it. At least, not without dinner and a movie first. *wink* OK, so actually I'm a prude. All talk.

But I'm talking about the "I want to do all kinds of nasty things to you right now and I think you want me to and I don't care what your name is and I have five STDs" look. It's a touch different from flirtatious glances or "I'm interested in you" eye contact. Maybe these predatorish folks just haven't mastered the art of eye contact and body language. Shall I give them the benefit of the doubt? ...Nah! But whatever the reason, ew.

Straight Mancrushes

I think a straight, married coworker of mine may have a mancrush on me. It's kind of cute. And fun. Because we can kind of sort of say flirty things occasionally without it meaning a darn thing. It makes our female coworkers raise an eyebrow, but I then remind them, "Hey, you make 'sexy' faces at each other, so don't go judging."

Now, a "mancrush" is not like a regular crush. Straight men can have mancrushes, as can gay ones. It's not necessarily sexual or romantic at all. It's like a "friend crush", as one female friend once put it. I've known a few straight friends who have had mancrushes. You can identify them by the almost giddy demeanor when they're around this (usually new) acquaintance and even the occasional remark or glance that could possibly be described as flirty, but not in the usual sexual way, or at least not in a way they'd actually ever consider following through on. Mancrushes don't always include flirtation, though. They may just seem extra happy to see you every time you show up, want to exchange numbers, talk to you a lot more than they talk to other male coworkers, etc.

But I actually enjoy straight guy mancrushes with the mild flirtation element 'cause you can sort of flirt in a completely benign way without worrying whether they will want to follow through with anything 'cause hey, they're straight, and you're not interested 'cause hey, they're straight.

Fun times.

To Whore Or Not To Whore

When I've felt the desire for more physical intimacy, and have lamented that I probably won't have it the way I want it, friends have either tried to console me or to stop my whining by saying it's not for lack of opportunity. I could have my pick from one of many, they say, so who am I to complain?

First of all, I don't think it's entirely true that I could have anyone. But hey, if Brad Pitt is interested, then alright. Yet I'm so thoroughly, completely inexperienced (just trust me on this one--I don't care to expound on how inexperienced I am) that even if I were to start lip-slutting around, I'm sure word of my inadequacy in this department would circulate fast enough to kill any such prospects. My attempts would surely be condescendingly "cute" in comparison to the much more experienced maker-outers out there.

But that's all beside the point. The point is that despite my desires for that kind of physical intimacy, I don't have someone with whom I would feel sincere in being physically affectionate at that romantic level. And as appealing as the idea of having a hot and heavy make-out may be on certain lonely nights, I just can't see myself being that affectionate without feeling real connection, and I don't come by that kind of connection easily, being the heady cold fish that I am. So in those moments when the slut in me is raging, I either want to feel attracted more often or want to abandon my reservation about physical expression because, hey, it's nice to be physically close to someone. But go fig, I don't think I would want to bring myself to make out just because it's fun or feels "nice".

I'm not trying to be preachy here. Most people I know, including some I love dearly and respect a lot, have gone through make-out sprees (or other sprees) once they discovered the joy of smooching (or other...things). Gay adolescence brings out the eager teenager in most of us, in some way or another. I've been through a "yay for cuddling" phase myself.

But now, I'm a bit gun-shy about being physically affectionate at all, due to realizing I've either given an occasional person the wrong impression with casual cuddling, or I've ascribed more meaning and depth to a relationship than there was partially because of physical affection, and I felt ridiculous afterwards for my foolishness. But c'est la vie. I've been burned by being a little slutty (letting physical affectionate go beyond the nature of the friendship), and apparently, it doesn't take much for me to learn that kind of lesson and clam up again. Maybe that's because I'm just ultra-righteous and have a more active conscience than the next person. OR maybe I'm just an emotionally delicate, defensive prude with trust issues. Or something.

In any case, I don't worry that nobody could find me desirable. I mean hey, just look at this. A veritable paragon of masculine beauty. Wait, OK, so it's not because I think I'm hot stuff but because experience indicates it wouldn't be hard for anyone to find someone who'd be up for a little makey outy, and let's be honest, guys are easy.

But I'm discovering a phenomenon I don't think most guys experience but with which most girls are probably all too familiar: the question of WHY I'd be desirable. Is it because they think they can get some action? Is it because they're physically attracted? Is it because I'm fresh meat? The next new thing? An option for some fun? Forget all that! That means nothing to me, so to encourage me by telling me I could find anyone I want to make out with is akin to saying I can find a dog who will hump my leg. Sure, it's a given, and the dog's probably going to enjoy it, but thinking, "I might as well be a pillow or a blow up doll" just isn't my idea of a good time. Even with a really good-looking dog.

I've never had this issue with girls. With women, I somehow have more confidence that they're interested in me personally, in who I am. I don't doubt they would consider it a bonus to find me physically attractive and fun. But I also don't doubt they are usually drawn mostly to me, to my mind, to my personality, as cliche as it may sound to say so. And I don't doubt they're less likely to get bored and move on to the next guy who comes along, maybe because they've invested, or maybe because they just choose more consciously, or maybe because they're just more insecure...who knows, right?

But guys? Guys are a different ballgame. Hot guys who may think you're fun and intriguing (for now) but who are mostly interested in getting off on you and moving on to the next best thing are a dime a dozen. An acquaintance who was, in the past, sexually promiscuous, attested that many of his anonymous encounters were surprisingly all-American jock types. He's bisexual, he said, but it was simply always easier to find guys who were up for a quick way to climax and be on their way without needing to know their partner's name than it was to find girls for the same. I've found the moho world to operate on a similar vein, though obviously not at the same level.

Now, before you start ranting about how you're not like that or how I'm overgeneralizing (which, duh, is what you do on a blog), please understand that I'm not saying cuddle-slutting around or having random NCMOs is akin to that kind of let's-meet-in-the-restroom sexual promiscuity, and I'm not saying all mohos are sluts. Yet I've never known so many lip whores (and I use that term affectionately, at least in this one instance) in my circles of friends as I have since I broke into the moho world. I just think the motives are similar. It's about you. It's about your pleasure. It's about fun. It's about ignoring the emotional consequences and disregarding the feelings of the other person because it feels so good to have you very own "live porn"--physical/sexual pleasure without the reality of commitment or real relationship. And hey, it's not sex, and straight people are allowed to do it without people making a big deal, so why not you? All I have to say to that is, if you want to be as slutty as the average straight person, that's your business, but slutty is slutty, toots.

But maybe I'm just "making too big a deal" out of this. Maybe I'm personalizing it too much. Maybe most people just enjoy a little recreational make-out here and there, like you might enjoy a casual conversation or flirtation, and it's no big deal. And maybe if you're not one of those people, you need to grow up and join the real world and stop making it all emotional and meaningful when it's not and move on. Maybe.

And I guess most social groups have their networks of non-committal make-outs and quick flings, and people deal with it all the time. But I have never been personally affected by that until I started experiencing attraction the way I've felt it the past couple of years, and a difference here is that the moho world is so small, that your friends are all flinging with each other. And it's really disgusting after a while to know where everyone's hands and lips have been. Ew.

I'm not exempting myself from this. I've cuddle-slutted around at times. "Hey, we're just barely getting to know each other, but here, I'll give you a foot rub, and let's spoon!" What is that?!! Have I become....a typical guy? Wait, no, maybe typical isn't the right word...

So now I have to remind myself, when I see an attractive guy, "Wait, yes it's nice to look at, but does it have a soul? If so, does he have a personality? Is he sincere? Is he kind and sensitive and intelligent and selfless? Do you want a relationship? If so, there's a lot that needs to come before physical intimacy. And if not, just enjoy the view and let go of the rest." Why does it take effort to remember I'm dealing with a human being? Oh! This is why guys in high school were bumbling idiots and insensitive jackasses with girls.

So now, when I have those moments when all I want is to participate in a little physical fun, I do have an impulse to grab the most attractive thing nearby, but damn my puritanical sensibilities, I just can't feel good about doing it without a sincere relationship. So I'm occasionally left stewing in the lovesac alone as I watch the crystal-clear tender or passionate embraces on our large-screen HDTV, wanting some action but knowing I don't really want it without a relationship and simultaneously cursing my lack of sluttiness.

...then I wrestle my roommate for a bit and wear myself out, and I'm OK for the night.

Feeling Real at the Matises'

When I first attended a monthly fireside at the Matises', the couple who opens their home to all kinds of homos, and family and friends of homos, I was a touch...tentative. I didn't exactly engage much. That's usually my M.O., being the very introverted person I am: I sit back and observe the surroundings at first. I take it in before engaging. I was the quiet new guy in the corner. I also felt a little like the fresh meat being dangled in front of the starving lions. I'm sure the Grahams would have protected me had they been there, but alas, they were not. (If that reference went past you, it's OK.)

Then, by the third month or so, I was feeling more comfortable at the gatherings, and it was just really nice to be around people who were totally comfortable with the whole idea of esperiencing homosexuality as a member of the church. I loved that people from many different perspectives and "journeys" could come together in a spirit of unity and acceptance and share an uplifting message and simple fellowship. It was nice to feel "normal" and totally at ease with it all, at least once a month.

By month five or six, the newness was wearing off, but the fun was in full gear. I no longer felt the need to feel "normal" once a month but was now enjoying the messages given and the fun of seeing people I basically only saw once a month. And to be quite frank, it was hecka fun to get a little flirting in here and there. I do enjoy a good flirt now and then, but I'm a bit of a tease, I guess, 'cause I rarely follow through at all. It's just fun sometimes. Testing body language. Verbal foreplay with no intent on following it up. It's fun. Call me dirty.

Sometime around month seven or eight, I realized the extent to which I was flirting and decided my behavior should probably match my intentions a little more closely. I began to curb the teasing and spent more time reconnecting with those people I see once a month, catching up, and maybe getting to know a couple of new people each time. Just enjoying the company.

Then month ten or twelve, I felt apathy. If I didn't love the Matises so much and enjoy the speakers, I might have started skipping here and there. The magic had worn off, I was feeling distant from mohodom, and I didn't know if it was necessary to be going at this point. I probably would have skipped in November if I hadn't been the one who made arrangements with the guest presenter, who I wanted to hear.

This month: I went probably only because I was curious about the speaker, and I wanted to see the Matises. ...OK, and I had nothing "better" to do. There was something noticeably different about this month, though: I wasn't interested in flirting with anyone. I wasn't interested in finding the cutest faces. I wasn't even interested only in catching up with my monthly contacts. I was more interested in talking with the guys who seemed to be standing around by themselves. So I talked to them. I'm glad I did. They were nice guys. I realized that my motivations and interactions felt more pure, more focused on others, more meaningful. Suffice it to say: it's nice to feel "real" again for now, to feel sober from self-gratifying interaction and shallow flirtation.

Don't get me wrong, I think there's a balance to be struck, and I've never really been a social slut, nor do I believe all interaction should be serious and laboriously meaningful. I didn't consider my visits with these guys who were standing alone to be charity cases at all. I just wanted to talk to them, and I enjoyed the conversations. I guess it's hard to describe, but I just felt more real, more like me, more down-to-earth than I have in that kind of setting in quite a while. By focusing on others, I felt more like myself. What kind of sense does that make?

And maybe it's also related to my recent efforts to decompartmentalize my somewhat fractured life. Just being me, as opposed to being the church me, the family me, the moho world me, the straight friends me...it adds a dimension of self-accountability and a desire to simply be genuine. I've also been thinking about my relationships with my good friends and what I really value about them and letting that motivate me to try to magnify, in myself, the traits I most value in people around me.

When I tried to leave by saying good-bye to a few people, I enjoyed our brief conversations, and 45 minutes later, I was heading out the door. Man, it seems impossible to get out of there before 10:30. But hey, I guess I like it that way.

A Dar Story - Blond Bank Boy

Some time ago, I periodically went to the branch of my bank near my place of employment to deposit paychecks, and there was this skinny, elegant brunette kid who was always at the window, and I was usually distracted, while there, by the amazing gayness emanating off of him. Every time I went in, I thought, "Wow, that kid's really gay."

Then one time, maybe the last time I was in, a fascinating little story began to unfold, and it went something like this:

This very straight-looking, almost jockish blond guy is behind the counter. I look for the skinny gay boy. Surely he must be there. Yes, indeed he is. But he's at the window as usual. I guess I may never have the opportunity to talk to him and get a more personal analysis. So I settle for the straight boy to the left who seems eager to be of assistance.

As I hand over my deposit slip and grab a pen to sign my check, he takes the paperwork from me with an enthusiastic expression. I think, "Hm. Perky for a non-gay." And I shrug and go about signing. Then the blond non-gay asks, in a remarkably yet questionably not-so-straight-as-I-thought voice, some question I now forget, probably how I'd like the cash or something along those lines. And I think, for just a moment, I see a flirtatious glint in his eye, with a sort of coy smile.

I tell myself I probably just have my dar's sensitivity set too high and go back to looking at the skinny gay boy, while blond non-gay processes my deposit, to see if there are any more tell-tale signs. No, of course not. It couldn't get any more tell-tale. He's a flaming homosexual for sure, whether or not he knows it. He probably knows it. How could he not?

Back to the straight boy at the counter. We're getting close to wrapping up now. As he hands me the bills, I could swear he brushes my hand just a touch more than your average, everyday female-loving bank employee would. And as he counts them out, his eyes are just a touch playful, maybe even flirty. Is this boy toying with me? Does he presume me to be gay and is flirting with me just to have fun with the gay client? Or is he maybe one of those "straight" guys that go cruising in the park for anything but girls in the middle of the night? What's going on here? Is this some secret, underground gay branch of my bank? Should I speak some code word to be ushered into a "vault" full of shirtless young guys dancing to Kylie Minogue?

We finish our little exchange, or exchanges, and I go about my way laughing to myself at the queer little display that has just ensued. I then laugh at myself as I shrug it off and tell myself I'm just trying to make the whole world gay, this poor blond chap my newest victim of mental pygmalion.

Well, months pass. The seasons change. And one day, a local moho friend tells me there's a new moho he's been hanging out with who apparently knows who I am. I ask how. He says he worked at my bank and worked out at my gym. After some probing questions and a description of the blond bank boy encounter, it would seem the blond bank boy is most likely the new moho on the scene. My sneaking suspicion from months earlier is confirmed after all this time. Oh, I enjoy these moments.

Evergreen Brings Out the Straight in Me

Went to an Evergreen fireside tonight. I enjoy them well enough, but I can't tell you how seared onto my eardrums the word "change" is now. While it's great to have goals and to be open to change and actively seek certain changes at certain times, it's just a turn-off for me to hear "change" SO much. And seriously, Evergreen meetings shouldn't turn you off...

Part of me wants to maintain business as usual, with friends both original recipe and moho style and occasional attractions to be flirty with but not pursue anything. I'm honestly pretty content right now.

But part of me also wants to find a wife someday to be a companion and with whom to raise children, though I must admit it's quite possibly more appealing in theory than when I think about actually doing it. But still, it's not hard to picture myself doing the family thing. And yet when I hear someone pushing "change" and "journeying into manhood", while I do see value in those things, part of me wants to shrug and walk out the door and tell them to keep their change.

On the other hand, I'm not one to say, "I'm not broken! I don't need to be fixed!" I'm probably cracked and bruised here and there. I can acknowledge I may have hit some bump in development that caused this. OK. And to "change" might actually be to simply "revert" back to how I should have been all along, had development gone as it was supposed to. I get that.

And I appreciated what the speaker said about how most people really need to not skip right to exorcising the gay out but to first remove roadblocks such as perfectionism, depression, OCD, addiction, or whatever before the natural process of emotional development can play out like it should, and the "change" desired by so many can then come somewhat naturally. That makes sense to me.

Yet I couldn't help but hear an undertone, "I changed, lots of men change, so if you haven't changed, you just need to try harder, and one day, you could be a normal human being, too." Even if that IS true, is there another way to approach it? Maybe not? Regardless, it was an interesting talk.



One thing I can say for Evergreen is that there are few times I feel straighter. Not sure what it is. And tonight I felt as straight as I've felt for a long time when I saw the brunette hottie towards the front of the chapel. And this hottie happens to be

A GIRL!!

I know, I know, revoke my certification if you will, but I actually thought, "I could date her. I could actually ask her out and maybe enjoy doing so. I hope she's just a supportive friend." This, of course, was more motivational towards change than actually listening to the talk. (No offense to the speaker; it's just that he's not a gorgeous brunette.) But after a brief introduction, she was whisked away by her friends. It was not meant to be.

Well...that one kid with the brown suit and blue shirt was kinda cute...

...back to being a homo.