Send Me an Angel

Anxious.  I feel like I am being buried alive with things that I don't need in my life, yet they always seem to find me.  I have 31 days before I am kicked out of my own house. I have places where I can stay in case the shit hits the fan, but I am still very scared that I might overstay my welcome.  

Right now I am looking at my future career.  The economy is a major bitch right now (thanks Bush). WHen I move up to LA, I seriously have no clue what I am going to do with it.  If and when I move up north, I am going to be faced with having 800 bucks to my name. Sure, the thought of moving to the city excites me, but the fact of being out of money and not having any finances to pay my rent, insurance, gym, cell phone, groceries scares the living shit out of me.  Yeah, I could call my mom for help, but I want to prove to them that I can do this. I just need to prove myself that I can do this. 

I just feel like I am running out of options right now. Leaving my comfort zone to move into a world that will eat me quicker than starving kids in China if I am not strong enough; leaving behind the one person that I truly love to find someone that can love me back; leaving this pain to possibly immerse myself into a deeper form of pain, all this scares the shit out of me and I have no idea what to do, or who to turn to.  

I am definitely excited about moving up to LA, there is no question about it. But it is the possibility that failure and pain might follow me up there that makes me anxious and nervous about even packing my bags...even if it is the right thing to do...

Under Attack (Part 2)

Breaking point. We all have them. They are the protective devices that prevent us from hurting the other. People that go overboard are most likely to do something stupid. I have gotten to that point once...it's not pretty and I tend to experience the dark side of me. Sometimes they are what prevents us from kicking the wrong person's ass. 

I never thought I would feel like an open area could make me feel so paranoid, so scared, and so ready to kick someone's ass in my life.  Every step that we took going through the mall was another step made possibly closer to the now-missing "Yes on 8" stalker.  Christine was calm and she was fine; but I, on the other hand, have never felt so on edge in my life.  

Too many kiosks, too many corners, too many places for this guy to hide and sneak up behind us. I was looking behind and checking around every corner.  When we reached neared the end of the mall and was welcomed with a curbside guitar soloist and a homeless guy that was not all there in the head.  I looked around for the guy to appear behind us. He was nowhere in sight.  I checked my scene for the guy and finally saw him. He was a nearing the intersection in front of us, he had given up.  A small part of me felt victory for standing my ground  for that long, yet at the same time, I still felt scared for almost encountering a potentially dangerous situation. Then a little voice in my head said this:

This is just the beginning...

I called my director and asked for another location that we could canvass at, he gave me a Starbucks that was two blocks away from us.  Christine started to bitch again that her feet were killing her.  Hopefully, it will be the last time the bitch decides to break in her high heel sandals. 

For the entire rest of the day, we were stationed at the nicest Starbucks in San Diego.  It was breath-taking!  Outside, we were freezing our butts off with the gusts of the cold ocean breeze coming in.  We were both receiving rejections left and right, getting very discouraged with our day.  Christine decides to go back inside to grab a cup of hot chocolate while I continued to canvass outside.  I approached a man and asked him: "Do you have a moment for gay rights?" 

He then turned around and interrogates bluntly: "Do you know what happens to Sodom and Gomorrah?"

This stops me cold in my tracks.  He did not just throw the Bible card on me.  It was at this moment that I reached my own breaking point.  Like an angry black woman, I took off my mental earrings and decided to fight back.  Full force. Not giving a fuck what I said. 

"I'm sorry sir. But you are comparing an old Biblical town to today's world.  Two different societies."  

"That's what's going to happen here if we allow gay marriage in California."

"Right. Well did you happen to hear about God burning down Connecticut and Massachusetts? Because last I heard, it was still intact and having to lowest divorce rates."  

"What good does it benefit a gay man or woman to get married?"

Oh hell no. He did not just say that. Girrrll. "I think the better question to ask is, what good does it benefit for a straight man or woman to get married?"

He shut up.  That's how I like my ignorant assholes. Quiet and without words...and if I done well, he will get out of my face.

He tried to make another argument, but I shot it down faster than Annie Oakley at Buffalo Bill's Wild West Show.  He stood by me while I was talking to another person about gay rights, but I only gave him a look that made him cross the street fast. 

This is what I deal with on a regular basis.  But after experiencing the day I had, absolutely stressful, scary, and without making any money, I just wanted to go home. 

We caught the bus back to headquarters once our shift was over. Jeff texted me asking if I wanted to skip the gym that day. Within a couple seconds, I wrote back. "Yes. I have had a fucking bad day at work and I need to just relax." 

He wrote back telling me how sorry he was to hear that I had a bad day, and he wanted to hear all about it. I had a date that night, but hanging out with Jeff sounded so much better than being with someone I would not have any chemistry with. 

I drove to his house so fast. I was so excited to hang out with him.  Then, for some reason, on my way to my home town, I started to feel cramped and trapped.  I was feeling claustrophobic and feeling that I was never going to escape the clutches of the pain that I was in.  I began to break down crying.  In complete denial that the hard times I had experienced in earning my degree had led me to this: Wondering what my next job was going to be.  

Jeff opened up the door to his house, and I came into the house terrified and just feeling very lost.  I had no idea where to go.  My parents despise me, my dad doesn't talk to me anymore, my jobs suck and I am not making enough money to save up, I am being kicked out in January, I put my life on the line for my work, I am altogether not happy right now. I was crying in Jeff's arms while he was comforting me.  All the abuse that I experience with this job is getting to be very mentally damaging and emotionally draining.  I care too much about this issue, it's my happiness that is at stake.  

After bitching to Jeff while crying my eyes out about all the frustrations in my life, he continued to hold me while I was letting the rest of my tears fall.  I hope my life gets better. I am under attack in so many areas here, that I don't know how much longer I can go before something bad happens to me again.  Wanna know the fear in that?  I know this next one will push me so far over the edge that I might not be able to find my way back....

Under Attack (Part 1)

Today was a breaking point in my career in working as a canvasser for the Human Rights Campaign.  It was a very hard and difficult day for me that left me crying and feeling very trapped. I began to realize that my life needs to hurry up and advance forward because I don't know how long I can endure this war within all aspects in my life.  Enduring pain at Biola was only a warm-up session compared to the amount of emotional stress I had to experience today. But like seeing beams of sunlight poking through the raging clouds above me, the evening to my day gave me encouragement to face another day. 

I woke up this morning in complete doubt of the suddenly chilled weather. Removing the sheets from my bed brought an unwelcoming draft to my legs so quickly that goosebumps appeared on my skin almost immediately.  As I slouched in bed, bitching and moaning about the cold, I begin to debate which clothes I was going to wear again today.  

It was eight o'clock.  I knew I had to leave to get to work on time, but something was preventing me from doing so. As if I had already known it was going to be a bad day. Fifteen minutes later, I had joined traffic with the rest of the laggers on the 15 freeway.  

Prepping at Headquarters, joking around with my friends, and training for another long day, I began to sense that something was going to go down today. Mike had given me my assignment with my coworker Christine to go to City College via trolley. It was my first trolley ride, so obviously I was excited! 

We arrived at City College thirty minutes later to find it to be as empty as London in 28 Days Later. It became apparent that on Thanksgiving Week, students have the entire week off.  As we were walking back to the trolley, I had the chance to hear Christine bitch about how much she hates our supervisor, how he is setting her up for a bad quota.  Mike gave us directions to the Horton Plaza mall in San Diego, we took the trolley a couple of blocks west.  We began to canvass near the entrance.  Then things started getting bad quick.

A man wearing a "Yes on 8" shirt walked by me.  Everything suddenly went slow.  The ambience of the fast cars flying behind me, the shuffling of the shopping bags around me, and the bumping bass coming from the nearby Abercrombie store had drowned out as he walked by. He glared at me as I stood nearby, as he had noticed that I was wearing a rainbow shirt with Obama's campaign logo on it as well.  He had suddenly averted his attention to Christine.  I looked at her and gave her a signal not to talk to that guy.  Because written all over his shirt was "Marriage is God's Law. Man + Woman equals Marriage." Then she approached him and asked him if he has a minute for gay rights.  Luckily, he had continued walking, ignoring every syllable escaping Christine's invitation. But this man's arrival, as we later found out, soon proved to be not a coincidence. 

He continued walking, pulling out his red Blackberry and began to dial a number.  Time was still slow as I was watching this man's every move while still trying to talk to people. Suddenly, he hung up his phone to take a picture of me with his cell phone camera.  Once he had taken a picture of me, he glared at me as he continued to talk on his phone.  It was at this point that this man was not going to be very friendly with us being there. 

My heart was racing.  I looked over to Christine in mid-dialogue with a couple.  Like a mother hen, I made my way over to her to warn her to stay by me.  If this man was going to fight, I was going to not let him go after an innocent straight girl.  If he has beef, he better be ready for a fight. 

For an hour, I stood guard by her as this man continued talking on the phone while looking at me.  I was getting intensely creeped out by this man.  He reminded me of a character written by Stephen King.  He continued spying on us, trying to make it as obvious as possible by taking more pictures of me and talking on his phone.  I kept my eyes peeled for other people wearing "Yes on 8" shirts to arrive; I also kept an eye on Christine, making sure she was safe. I had never been so scared in my life. 

It was starting to effect my performance in talking to people, so I decided to call it a day at the Horton Plaza.  I told Christine to get ready, because we were going to relocate to another place. Then suddenly, we noticed something that scared the shit out of me: the man was no longer there.  

Where was this man? I thought to myself in absolute fear that he might be waiting for us somewhere. But in any case, we had to exit out the way we came from so we wouldn't get lost.  I kept Christine close to me.  I was more anxious to kick his ass; but either way, we were scared.  

Then we made our steps, at the mall, in broad daylight, towards the exit. Awaiting for what lay before us...

to be continued....because im fucking tired.

I'm Not Sorry

A couple weeks ago, in the blog Hot Mess, I experienced dark rage. A rage I thought I had never possessed but gave me so much power. Pain is a strong emotion and can be turned into dark rage quickly. Maybe that's why The Grudge is a movie I can best relate to. When I am hurt and left dead on the floor, I want others to feel my pain.

I also mentioned in a blog, Mommy Complex, that when my friends are hurt, all I want to do is hurt the person that is causing them pain. The moment that Stacy started attacking my community, I took off my earrings and took that bitch out.

Now imagine me in both emotions at the same time. Did I just create a rift in the galaxy? Whoops, my bad.

I am sitting at Petco park with my best friend Jeff, awaiting Madonna to show herself to millions and start the damn show. The show was supposed to start at 730 but it didn't start until 900, but I am pretty sure Madonna did it because she, along with the rest of America, was on pins and needles to see if Obama was going to win. Once he was given the thumbs up, then Madonna started getting her shit together. In the meantime, Jeff and I were hugging each other and laughing at the news that the era of conservative tyranny is on the verge of ending. Then our curiosity went a little further to check up on Prop 8 if it was passed or not.

I tried checking on my phone but got no results, we asked the gay couple that was sitting behind us but they told us no luck yet. Within five minutes, I was starting to get text messages from my friends telling me how sorry they are for me, obviously a bad sign. Robert told me that Prop 8 is passing, but the dumb fuck didn't tell me that it was only 10% of the votes were in, so there was a possibility of a turn out for the better after the remaining 90% arrived (what surprised me with him was that he was even watching the news). By this time, Madonna had started the show and Jeff and I were dancing in our seats to "Candy Shop."

A couple of songs later, my friends sent me the 75% count of Prop 8. 55% yes to 45% no. I gasped at the news and had to tell Jeff, when I did, we both were depressed. I looked behind me to see the gay couple were in each others arms crying. Then the whole fact was what was awaiting at my home is what made me break down crying.

I broke down crying because my dreams of being happy were shattered. I was so hurt that the Christians were going to put their personal beliefs in the face of America to stifle the rights of the rest of America because of their religious beliefs. For a moment, I wished I wasn't a Christian. And what was worst was that I still lived with them and I was feeling more trapped than I ever was before.

Jeff was holding me while I was crying histerically, in fear and sadness. Then I told Jeff "I wanted you to be happy and get married. I was fighting for you."
Jeff said in my ear while Madonna was singing "Heartbeat": "Joel and I weren't going to get married. But I feel like I have been psychologically raped of my civil rights. I feel like shit.

As did the rest of the gay community across California.

For me, I can cry and be depressed; however, when I see another is down, a force stregnthens me to be strong and comfort them in return. Jeff was feeling really down, so I put my arms around him and was holding him in return for his deed with me. As I was doing so, the good side of me disappeared again and I began to bring out my dark rage.

The next day, I was still down and pissed off that I still lived with my family that hates me. I decided to get out of the house and go to the gym. As I was doing so, I saw a guy with a Yes on 8 sticker on the back of his car. I drove up next to him and was screaming "FUCK YOU!!!!!!!" at the top of my lungs while he was staring at me dumbfounded at what he may have possibly done to me. My dark rage had been brought forth and there was no smile that was going to come out unless it was forced.

I wanted to make every Christian that voted yes on Prop 8 to pay. They hurt my friend, my community, and they deserve this. I am not sorry for what I said. People would write me saying: "ouch that really hurt" and I would reply with: "I'm not sorry. You deserve it. You stifle my rights, I stifle yours. You shouldn't have pissed me off."

I am enraged that this was happening. How one community wants to hurt another all because of whom we love. What's funny is how I am in the middle of it all. I used to be really involved with the Christian community, I used to be up there. But once I realized I was gay, I began to make the move to the other side. Once I did, I was hated on by my former community. Maybe it was their efforts to get me back to them, but hate only drives a person away.

So I am still not sorry for the things I have said. I have my right to voice what I believe in. And trying to shut me up isn't going to help

The Greatest Orgasm

The night before Election Day. There is so much anxiety in the air, it's like electricity. By one touch could send a life-threatening shock into the person coming in contact with the other. Even watching the news has sent my blood pressure into staggering heights as I watch the campaigns draw to a close and the latest results on the polls for prop 8 come in. Jeff, who is not religious, was just as nervous as I was and asked that I say a prayer for the both of us.
Maybe it's just me, because I am such a slut, but is this entire anxiety kinda like a person climaxing to their orgasm? The slightest touch could have us either have "blue balls" for another four years (aka...McCain and Bimbo Palin taking office) or have the greatest orgasm in American history (aka...Obama! and Prop 8 being denied!).
There have been such random positions that has built the tension between two parties that you could swear there was the same position in a nearby Karma Sutra. But after this song and dance, I am kinda ready to cum. Ready to feel that possible release and sleep for like 4 years and not have to worry about my jobs being shut down because we have another retard in office.
So with that, go and fucking vote. I want this tension to be over.

Mommy Complex

Mothers have an intuition about them that when their kids are in danger, they run on the defensive side and can, at times, inhibit a somewhat superhuman ability to protect their kids. One mother, when witnessing her children being crushed by their car after an accident, was able to lift the vehicle up high enough to have her children escape without any further injury. But humans aren't the only animals that show this type of love, even animals exhibit this type of behavior.

A mother bird in her nest notices that the forest around her chicks is on fire. She simply protects them by covering them to prevent injury; although they did become fried, it is plain to see the type of sacrifice is something that God had built into all of his creatures. It's a kind of way that shows of our undying love for someone that we care about.

Granted, I am not a mother, or a dad for that matter as of yet, but I do show this type of emotion, but I do have this defense complex built into me (one of the benefits of being a mama's boy). One of the things that I learned from my first boyfriend is not be afraid to stand up for what you are most passionate about, whether it be a political statement, a friend, lover, or someone or something you care about. Soon, I began to adapt this into my own life. Standing up for my friends and things I truly cared about. The moment someone makes a sneaky attempt to hurt something I care about, they know not to mess with me nor the person that is in the middle. Today, one of my once closest friends had to experience this. She had crossed the line by attacking my community, and I was not going allow it. Sure, you can attack me all you want, I can surely take it; but the moment that you begin to attack my gay community, then we have a problem.

Before I begin, let me give you a prologue about this friend. Her name is "Stacy." She and I have been friends for a long time and knew me before I realized I was gay. When we went off to our different colleges, we still stayed in contact. Now during this time, she had made a confession to me: she is bisexual. Following that little confession, our friendship grew closer because at the time, I was dating a guy and felt so relieved to see someone else close to me was seeing life through my eyes as well. She would update me on what was going on in her life. Stacy confided in me just as much as I did with her. I would tell her things about my love life I wouldn't normally tell, mainly because I trusted her. She told me that she would never come out of the closet, and if she ever decided to do so, she would do it in her time.

Suddenly, she had made a big change, her blogs changed from being about finding something into turning religious. She has always been a Christian, but the recent posts have been about falling in love with God and rejecting her dark side of her life. My Slayer instincts told me that something was going on. Then I saw a post that she had put up on her account saying that she had been given crap for protesting. This is the part when the shit hit the fan.

Curiosity always gets me in trouble. Sure, you can tell me to not to touch the fire, but I won't know the pain of a burn than to experience it for myself. I asked her what exactly she was protesting, she had told me it was for Prop 8. This totally brought up a Fire-Engine Red Flag up in my head because she had recently discovered God in her closet, dusted Him off, and put him back on (God was outside the closet too, she just was too afraid to open the closet door to see). I asked if she was protesting FOR PROP 8 or AGAINST PROP 8. She replied with a FOR. This is when the Mommy Complex kicked in.

In case you don't live in California, Prop 8 is a bill that is on the voting ballot that, if passed, could write in the California Constitution that marriage is "between a man and a woman." Complete. Bullshit. But I will continue the story.

I wrote back telling her how disappointed I was in her. How she could be for something that prohibits my right to happiness, and does not grant me the same rights as an American citizen. I also began to explain to her that being a bisexual woman in the closet is a smack in the face to the gay community. Then she began to reply by saying how my lifestyle is a sin and that finding God was her way out of it. It was at this point that my ammunition changed from Nerf Balls to Photon Lasers. I told her I am a Christian too and can't believe she was pulling the God card on me because her convictions of being a bisexual had overcome her thoughts and made her feel like she was going to hell for being who she is. This is when she called me. I let it ring four times before I finally answered it. Needless to say, my earring had come off and I was ready to fight back. She began to tell me how she is trying to protect her marriage. By this time, the photon lasers were taken back and I had switched to my semi-automatic bazooka.

Like I said earlier, you mess with me, that's fine. I can fend for myself, but the moment you pick on someone or something that I care about, that's when I play nasty. I lashed back that she can keep her fucking marriage, but it's my marriage as well as the rest of the gay community's marriage that is at stake. She was telling me how self-absorbed I am, making this whole conversation about me. Honestly, this conversation wasn't about me, it's about the entire fucking gay community. I am speaking from the voices of 3 million gay men and women across California. It is our rights that are at stake*, not the straight community.

I ended the conversation, after she was attacking me for being gay, by replying that maybe the closet could use a self-righteous bitch in there after all. Self-righteous bitches are good at gathering dust. Sure, it was mean and cruel, but I was definetly not going to be peaceful about it when my gay community is being attacked. I developed my ability to protect those that I truly care about and fight back. Because really, if I take it lying down, they will just step all over me, and I am not a person that takes conflicts lying down. Unless they end up having a happy ending if you know what I mean....

But sad to say, I had to break it off with Stacy. Sure, it hurt doing it, but I am not going to have a once-close friend try to hurt me and my community. Sometimes, one of the things involved in a mommy complex is being able to sacrifice. I was really disapointed that a very close friend of mine was trying to prohibit my right to happiness. I mean of all people, friends are one of the people that should be the ones supporting you. She even told me that she wanted me to settle down with someone and be happy. How would I be able to do that if I can't even marry the person that I love?

* If you have any questions regarding Prop 8. Please ask me. Otherwise, if you are truly my friend, set aside your religious bias and VOTE NO ON PROP 8. Because it's not about religion, it's about what is fair and what's right. Voting yes will only show your discrimination. Not all of America is Christian. We are given the rights to three things: Life, Liberty, and the Pursuit of Happiness. How can we ever achieve this if my rights are being stifled because of your religious convictions?