March 18, 2016

I choose all the doors

At this juncture I have entirely too many choices set before and I haven’t the slightest clue what to choose. 

Since starting college (for real this time) I have earned solid A scores from each of the classes I’ve taken. When I originally set out my plan was to hopefully transfer to a CSU, thinking that they would be more open to applicants. Since I have far exceeded my grade expectations at the start, I have decided that since I could graduate Summa Cum Laude that I will branch out my choice of schools where I send applications. Possibly even well known and highly respected collegiate establishments. 

My first go to is Berkley. The husband jokes that I only have brought that into the equation since we went to see Kerry Eleveld speak at a PFLAG meeting. However he is only partially right. The meeting merely brought up memories from Saved By the Bell when Jesse Spano had dreams of going there. In reality I’m basing my choices on a dated children’s show. 

After a few searches listing the top collegiate journalism programs I narrowed it down to three that made multiple lists: USC, San Francisco State, and Berkley. The others are out of state and out of the realm of possibility. So at least I have that cut to a manageable size. But, with two of them (assuming I’m accepted) I would have to move away from my friends and family. The other I could realistically commute. It’d be exhausting but it’d be feasible. 

Now, in three years time I will want to have children. I will not physically able to, seeing as how I am unfortunately lacking a working uterus, and my husband does not have one either. That leaves surrogacy or adoption. I would prefer the first, but that option is far outside my budget. So it is left to the second. I’d prefer an infant but I’m not picky. 

The problem is that my significant other does not want to raise a family in the very conservative community in which we reside. I don’t blame him. He’s uncomfortable with having to explain to people the situation and risk their judgement and shame. I get it. That is not something that bothers me but it takes two to tango and I need my dancing partner if I’m going to cut a rug. 

Yet since this conversation has been the argument du jour in our household he has also agreed that moving away would also cut off our potential children from having a large and loving family; which is something he himself says he loves about his life. 

So the question is, do I stay or do I go? In the end, the decision won’t be made until I have graduated with higher distinctions and after having been accepted to my institution of choice. Even that is hinged on whether I got my appraiser’s license, AND if I’m comfortable moving and leaving the boss that sees great potential in me and have paid for my education. 

Ugh! Life!

February 27, 2016

High school sweethearts

Today my husband encountered something that shocked and astounded me. 

He’s taking the photojournalism class I took last semester and today they did the assignment for “portrait.” One of the volunteer models was this 15 year old boy. 

My husband said that this boy had brought another along with him and they were being playful with each other in a way that gave him the impression that they were together. They were lightly touching the others waist or arms. Nothing that screamed “hey! We got a gay here!”

All of the students in the class grabbed a model and disappeared to do the assignment, other than my husband and this boy. He went up and asked him to be his model and they took pictures.

As they were walking my husband asked if he and the boy were together and the boy said “how could you tell?” 

It turns out that this 15 year old boy and his boyfriend are engaged to be married in a year. A year. He’ll be sixteen. His fiancé is 18. 

What I find so shocking is that in my conservative, bible buckle of the Bible Belt, town that not only do this boy’s parents accept him as a gay man BUT also have given permission for the two to be married. That’s insane!

I shouldn’t be this amazed, my mother alone is testament to the power of love and acceptance, but I think this a testament to change. Real change. 

While I wish the best for these two, part of me thinks that they won’t make it very long. Teenage romance has it tough already, the fact that they’re also gay men doesn’t really add to the potential success rate of this relationship. 

Pessimism aside, the fact that I even have this story to tell brings me so much joy. 

February 27, 2016

High school sweethearts

Today my husband encountered something that shocked and excited me. 

He’s taking the photojournalism class I took last semester and today they did the assignment for “portrait.” One of the volunteer models was this 15 year old boy. 

My husband said that this boy had brought another along with him and they were being playful with each other in a way that gave him the impression that they were together. They were lightly touching the others waist or arms. Nothing that screamed “hey! We got a gay here!”

All of the students in the class grabbed a model and disappeared to do the assignment, other than my husband and this boy. He went up and asked him to be his model and they took pictures.

As they were walking my husband asked if he and the boy were together and the boy said “how could you tell?” 

It turns out that this 15 year old boy and his boyfriend are engaged to be married in a year. A year. He’ll be sixteen. His fiancé is 18. 

What I find so shocking is that in my conservative, bible buckle of the Bible Belt, town that not only do this boy’s parents accept him as a gay man BUT also have given permission for the two to be married. That’s insane!

I shouldn’t be this amazed, my mother alone is testament to the power of love and acceptance, but I think this a testament to change. Real change. 

While I wish the best for these two, part of me thinks that they won’t make it very long. Teenage romance has it tough already, the fact that they’re also gay men doesn’t really add to the potential success rate of this relationship. 

Pessimism aside, the fact that I even have this story to tell brings me so much joy. 

January 18, 2016

Night time ramblings

Life is weird. Especially for me. I wish I had all the answers but I don’t. Instead I have to pick what I think may or may not be the best for me. More often than not I end up having made the wrong choice. Yet I feel that this end result is common for most people. No one knows where they will end up. One just prays they’ve made the right one. 

I mentioned in another post that I’ve given up on trying to be a writer. It only seemed logical since I have written nothing new in some time, nor have I attempted to edit my novel in even longer. Plus when I look back on just what I’ve written here I cringe. I suck at it. I’m rusty and in the amount of time my mind demands of me to be done I will end up just disappointing myself. I had always thought that I would be a writer, the kind published in paperbacks and put onto a shelf. However that isn’t going to happen. I don’t seem to be as dedicated to that plan as I thought. Or I’m just fucking lazy and don’t want to attempt it without being astounding from the start. 

I blame a lot of my failures on my husband. I say that he manipulated me into this or that but in reality we are all responsible for our own choices. He may or may not have broken me down over time to be a good little earth minion, but ultimately it’s my decisions that make my life. 

All of this comes to mind because I spoke with a good friend of mine from SAA. He brought up how his kids went for their dreams and became the master of their crafts without having a “back-up plan”, where I have done he opposite. It made me wonder if my husband has somehow stifled my creativity because he doesn’t see it as being viable or a financially stable choice. On one hand it rings true but I have to wonder if I’m just making excuses for my own failures. That is why I remind myself over and over that “we are the master of our destiny.” In reality we are not. We can only attempt to fulfill some glass ball fortune. Otherwise it’s all about luck. I’m afraid I have none…

It’s strange though that I have given up but yet I have written more in the past weeks than in two or three years. Insane. It brings to mind the thing my psych professor said that artistic people have to make their art. They will go crazy if they do not. In one way or another it will manifest itself from their efforts by any means necessary. I like to think that I am that kind of person, but I know that I am nothing extraordinary. I am nothing if not plain and dull, longing to be something more than just.