2k14

We are living in a society where everything is controversial. The backwoods swamp patriarch of Duck Dynasty spoke openly about his religious views against gays. Okay, great. Everyone deserves the right to their opinion. So why did the world flip their shit when he voiced his opinion? Isn’t it also an opinion that contradicts everything he believes in? So why should you have the right to voice your opinion and not he? It’s not our job as people to sit on our asses and judge, criticize, and discriminate against other people. It’s our job to love one another, celebrate the differences that surround us, and live a life that makes us happy. You’re not guaranteed another 365 days after this one, so I suggest you stop judging and start living. 

Everyone always questions what is their purpose in life. I’ve done it countless times. I’m sure you’ve done it at least once or twice yourself. Tomorrow is the beginning of a new year. To some, that means another year older. To some, it means another year wiser. To some, it means a new beginning or even a great ending. Whatever it means to you, live for the moment. Each day focus on what truly makes you happy. For me, a new year means a new challenge, a new adventure, or simply just a new day. However, although it may be “just a new day,” that doesn’t mean that the day should go to waste. There’s one thing that I’ve found that not only makes me happy, but also tends to make someone else happy as well…the gift of giving. In 2014, don’t make resolutions. Resolutions are so easily broken and there tends to be no emotional conflict with it. Instead, make a promise. You (hopefully) wouldn’t break a promise to your best friend, so why should you break a promise to yourself? I could easily give up soda or limit myself to one hour a day on watching TV or even going a month without meat. But I know that in today’s society, we are all about the immediate reward. What result will I see if I give up soda? Sure. In the long run it’ll be better for me, but I think that’s why resolutions are so easily broken. There’s no immediate benefit, gain, or reward.

This year, I promise to myself that I’m going to be more selfless.

Why did I decide this? Looking back in 2013, I have found that my happiest moments are when I did something selfless, and also when someone did something selfless that helped me out. My grandmother has been gone for quite some time now, but her voice and vision is stronger than ever.

Love. 

With 365 days ahead of me in 2014, that gives me at least 365 chance to be selfless and make someones day a little bit easier, a little happier, and to remind them that it's not too difficult to love.

With each passing day in the new year, don’t forget to love. You might be having a bad day, but taking it out on others will not make it any better. You might have gotten a shitty tip from a “Christian,” but grouping all Christians together as shitty tippers will not do anything but harbor anger in your heart. Lastly, you might not believe in one thing or another (gay marriage, God, abortion,) but that doesn’t make you right. It makes you human. Everyone will have an opinion on it. Next time someone voices that opinion, instead of firing up the keys on your computer, just stop for a second and take a step back…look at things from their point of view. Even if it goes against everything you believe in, allow that individual to voice their opinion. Times are changing for the better. As long as we continue to do what we were set out to do, then there should be no excuse for the cruelty and wrongness that the world endures.

Make 2014 count. Live, laugh, and above all….

Love.

“I've learned that no matter what happens, or how bad it seems today, life does go on, and it will be better tomorrow. I've learned that you can tell a lot about a person by the way he/she handles these three things: a rainy day, lost luggage, and tangled Christmas tree lights. I've learned that regardless of your relationship with your parents, you'll miss them when they're gone from your life. I've learned that making a "living" is not the same thing as making a "life." I've learned that life sometimes gives you a second chance. I've learned that you shouldn't go through life with a catcher's mitt on both hands; you need to be able to throw something back. I've learned that whenever I decide something with an open heart, I usually make the right decision. I've learned that even when I have pains, I don't have to be one. I've learned that every day you should reach out and touch someone. People love a warm hug, or just a friendly pat on the back. I've learned that I still have a lot to learn. I've learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.”― Maya Angelou

Dear World

Dear World,

I am writing you this letter in regards to something you have done to me recently. I would very much like to write this to one person in particular, but I cannot do that as that person remains cowardly and anonymous.

I think I want to start this letter by asking:  what did you hope to accomplish by doing what you did? Did you think it would scare me? Make me rethink my clothing choices? You definitely did not accomplish that. At all. It has however made me think long and hard about the world we live in.

I would be naive to think that I could wear heels all day without getting backlash from somebody. A classmate of mine posted on her Facebook wall "Just saw a guy on campus wearing high heels. Ummm....okay? Whatever floats your boat I guess haha"  Did this upset me? Nah. I knew things like this was going to happen at some point or another. What I didn't expect was what you did.

When I came home from celebrating my 22nd birthday, I came home to find the piece of hatred you left for me. I will start with the first word. You wrote the word "fag" on my bulletin board. It is my job each month to create a new bulletin board. It should be something helpful to the residents in the building as well as be eye catching so that I can help them in some way with the information that's on there. My bulletin board this month revolves around leadership. I am taking the opportunity that you've given me and I will use it to teach something any leader should know.

Acceptance. 

Do you know where the word "faggot" comes from? Someone who I consider an amazing human being, friend, and teacher told me, and I will take this opportunity to enlighten you. The word "faggot" dates back to the witch hunts in European history. People accused of being witches weren't the only people that were burned. Men accused of participating in homosexual acts were drenched in flammable liquids to start the fires for the witches at stake. This letter isn't about a history lesson though, so I will end that part.

It's been a full 24 hours now since I came home to find the hate speech you have written on my board, and I'm more passionate about it than ever. I want you to know something, you can write on my board, whatever you want, anytime you want. The good, the bad, and anything in between. The initial shock factor might get to me, but that's all you'll get. I've been called every name imaginable, so you're not being innovative with whatever it is you decide to say. Someone might ask the question:  if I wasn't upset by what you have done, then why am I taking the time out of my day to write this?

I am writing this for anyone that needs to hear it. You have deeply impacted me in a way that I never knew existed. I cried today. I cried a lot actually. But not for me. Here is why I cried...

What if there was someone in this building that was struggling with their sexuality and had started building the courage to finally come out? They then see what you've written and are scared back into not coming out. What if there's someone in this building that has a roommate that is anything but what they consider ideal? You're giving them the thought that it is okay to say hurtful things, and it's simply not.

It is not okay.

You also decided to write "heels are for girls." I can agree with this to some level. Heels were probably meant for females to wear. However, where does it say that heels can't be worn by men? Through gender stereotyping we have made it the norm for females to wear them, but please tell me why men can't?

I'm struggling to comprehend why you would do something like this. Your ignorance has proven to me that there is most definitely still a battle. There is something that I must stand my ground on, heels or not, and fight for what I believe in. I commend you for standing up for what you believe i,, but please, if you're going to do it, HAVE THE BALLS TO DO IT TO MY FACE. I would applaud you actually if you decided to do this. Until then, I have to pity you. The difference between you and I is that when I set out my size 11 high heels to wear the next day, I knew that I would be fighting for what I believe in and not be scared of who knew it. You on the other hand, hid behind a marker. When it comes down to it, I would say that at this given instance I am more of a man than you'll ever be because I am not hiding.

Through such a hateful act that was meant to tear me down, you have only built me up. I have told a few people the situation and every single person that I told was infuriated that such ignorance and cowardice can walk around an spill hate from their mouth.  I have had more support with this situation than you'll ever receive for your hate. Whether you  choose to believe it or not, things are changing in society. One day YOU will be the minority and I will still be standing proud and tall, in my heels of course. Don't worry, I'll accept you then just as I accept you now. I know that hate and ignorance doesn't come naturally. My boss used the perfect example for someone in your situation. You can't expect someone to do a calculus problem if they haven't taken calculus yet. Just as I can't expect you to accept me and be tolerant if you were never taught that growing up.

Lastly, I will leave you with the prayer that I have prayed so many times today. Believe it or not, a gay CAN pray to someone besides the devil. I know it may hard for you to understand now, but you'll get the hang of it one day. This is what I pray and I ask if you take anything from this letter, it's this.

"Dear God,

I know that there are people in the world that will never fully understand the beauty of life and diversity. I ask that you help them in their journey. For those that you simply cannot reach because their soul is so rooted in hate, please let them continue to write things or say things to me if they feel the need to do so. I am strong enough to handle what they are doing. If it takes them writing things on my board to prevent them doing it to someone else, I will gladly accept that. Amen."

If you are going to belittle someone for their sexuality, or their skin color, or the hairstyle, or simply the shoes on their feet, continue to do it to me. There are others out there that can and will take their own life to end their misery because people like you can't see them and accept them for who they are. I will never do that because I will never give you the satisfaction of knowing you even stood a chance with my life. I'm a survivor in more ways than you'll ever know. Just remember one thing; your actions, bigotry, intolerance, and hatefulness will always speak louder than any words you could ever say. What you say and do could end someone's life.

It is time that we as human beings close our eyes just long enough to open our hearts and do what we were meant to do all along.     Love.

Sincerely,

Alex Baker

PS- If you think that what you've said is going to stop me from wearing my heels, then I guess I will see you this weekend.

Warrior

Adversity.


We all go through it in some way or another.  Who can say they have had an easy life without any hardships? If you can say you have, then consider yourself lucky. I have not met a single person that can say that. I'm not going to sit here and say my life is miserable though.

It's not.

I have a job that I love. I have a car that works. I have a fully functioning body. Well, maybe minus my ear right now. However, I am confident that it will all work out for the best. Life is hard for all of us. If it wasn't for the bad, we wouldn't realize how good things can actually be. There is one thing that I don't quite understand. We all have a tough time at one point or another, so why do we take it upon ourselves to go out of our way to be rude to someone else?

Think about it. 

That person you just honked at because they weren't driving fast enough. The man at the drive thru who messed up your order. Maybe even your coworker who just isn't quite doing their job. We all wear masks in our daily lives. In some way, shape, or form, we hide our insecurities from the world. What happens when someone taps into that insecurity? We become vulnerable. We automatically retract. Emotions rush through our veins.

Today was a unique day for me to say the least. As many of you probably know by know, I have the nappiest blonde wig in the world. Surprisingly, it looks just like Amanda Bynes' nappy blonde wig she sports throughout twitter and New York City. One night, I decided that I was going to be Amanda Bynes. I loved it. I love what Amanda has to offer me. It's a character I've continued to portray. I've been sure to post pictures all about social media getting various responses.

Rewind.

A man 48 year old man added me on Facebook recently.  I didn't know the man, but hell, I could've met him one night while I was busy being Amanda. We had several small chats, nothing deep or personal. I saw some of his statuses on my timeline several times. You could tell that the things he would post were cries for help. One day he would be happy with himself, content with where he was at. The next day he would beat himself up, angry at what he was. He would always try and flirt with me on my statuses and photos. He once asked me "Mr. Baker. May I ask please. I'm 48. Please be honest. Am I too old for you?" I replied that age was just a number, which it is. He replied back "

You are so fucking beautiful to me. I just keep holding back from calling or writing because I feel like, what's the point? He doesn't wanna be with me."  There was yet another cry for help. His insecurities were showing. I didn't want to reject him, because nobody likes rejection, so instead I tried to encourage him to do what he wants. "Well thank you, kind sir. Only thing holding you back is you." I would never want to make someone feel like that are less than what they are. It takes courage to tell the person you like that you actually like them, and I will respect anyone that does so. The next message he sent took things to a new level. "How committed are you to OKC?" I didn't really know what to say since I didn't actually know this man. "The only thing I'm committed to is an asylum I feel." "I'm really close to asking you to visit me down here." He went on to say he would pay for the entire thing. I could "stay a few weeks." He would "take me to Disney World because he knew I liked Disney." He would "pay for the travel expenses" if I would just come down there. I told him (still trying to be nice and not let him be hard on himself) that I was very busy with school and work, and that I couldn't afford to take off. I also told him that if I was to ever do anything like that I would have to really know the person and trust them, but since I had barely talked to him I didn't exactly feel comfortable. He then cut right to the point and asked me if I was interested in him. 

Fast forward.

I love what Amanda has to offer me. It's a character I've continued to portray. I've been sure to post pictures all about social media getting various responses. One day, I posted a picture of me as Amanda. If you follow the Amanda news, you would know she wore a light blue wig to court. I didn't have a light blue wig, but a dark blue one instead. I wore it, and I loved it.  This man, who has given me all the compliments in the world, posted on the photo "You make one beautiful man and one ugly bitch!" It was a joke. It's also true. If you've read my previous blogs, you would know that I don't attempt to be a woman. I really don't attempt to portray a woman. I just do what I like to do.

Be me.

I was headed to bed and I saw the blonde Amanda wig and something took over me. I immediately wanted to take pictures of myself. Maybe that's why she always posts pictures of herself.  I called my roommate into the room and had him snap a few photos, against his will of course. I posted them on Facebook later and decided to call it a night. I woke up this morning with a Facebook notification saying the 48 year old man had posted on my picture. I was thinking it's probably yet another attempt at him flirting with me. "What an absolute waste for potentially a good looking MAN." 

I couldn't have been more wrong. 

This hurt. This pissed me off. He is a stranger, but he has had plenty of opportunity to read and know that doing this is quite an insecurity for me.  I decided how I wanted to approach the situation. I almost resorted to being an absolute mess and throw in a handful of curse words, but then I realized I'm better than that.

"I'm not entirely sure why you continue to put emphasis on the word man. I have a penis between my legs. I am well aware of my gender so there is no need for you to continue pointing it out. I appreciate the compliments but I ask that you refrain if you have to tack on my gender each time.

A Boy Who Likes Heels

Read that. If for some reason you have a problem with what I do and what I like to wear, delete me as a friend. I'll even do you a favor and do it myself if you want me to do so. For the record, this is Alex speaking. Not Amanda."

I immediately went over to delete this man as a "friend" on Facebook only to discover he had beat me to it. LOL, bye! I couldn't believe it. Things only got better.

"Alex, I did finally read that blogspot of yours. I can't in any way apologize to you for anything I posted because I sincerely feel that gay men who dress in drag are a weight, if not worse, to the daily fight we normal gay men make for our equality.
Honestly, people like you, who I'm certain do not vote, turn the stomachs and hearts of the American people away from Equality. While normal gays are fighting the fight out there in public media, we have to contend with our retarded little cousins who think we're all florists and pom-pom waving drag queens. What's even worse is when I see some men in dress who are horrifying enough to frighten small children...like I believe you do.
Alex, there was a time for us all, during adolescence, when we founds ourselves born with a male body and a female brain. I was 14 when I realized this. Being raised religious, I turned to prayer. "Jesus please make my penis into a vagina so the boys will want to fuck me". He didn't. About a year later, I reasoned that I'm a gay man, not a hybrid woman freak.
My suggestion is that you stop being a hindrance to the equality movement, put some goddam pants on and grow the fuck up!"

Okay okay. I had thought previously that this man must be crazy. However, once I read this my suspicions were confirmed. What is it this man has against me? Is it the generational gap? Is it because I turned him down many a time? What the fuck is this guy's problem?  But wait, there's more.

"It's more disappointment than anything else. It wasn't sexual. You are a good looking MAN. You make a haggard, community-embarrassing spectacle as a drag thing. Honestly, you have the physical attractiveness to have gotten my attention but, I realize the vast difference in our ages. I was under no illusion. However, I can promise you two things: #1, I absolutely don't hate you and #2, Had I seen the drag thing up front, I never would have bothered you. You'll find that to be your life-long experience. Once they find out, unless they are girl-boy too, they'll run. Maybe they'll fuck you because you'll be desperate but, there won't be anyone serious because, you aren't to be taken seriously.
I'm just hoping I can get into that head of yours and help you to realize you are a man. Your friends might not have the courage to tell you but, you're a great looking man who is making a fool of himself with all that silly wig and makeup shit. I want you to be able to say, "Merréll, thank you for having the concern, courage and honesty to get me on the right path." If you logically filter it out, you'll discover your actions make NO SENSE. You're part of a community of men who are hoping to find a masculine man. If they wanted to be with REAL pussy, it's not that hard. Why would they choose fake pussy with a beard? There are no lover stories involving the bearded lady at the circus with the town's young, fine suitors. I just hope you come to understand how powerful you can be when you're a man, not a freakshow from the circus.
Hate you? Baby, I don't hate you. You're too young for me 2-to-1. I had a GREAT life and I'll share something with you here. I was a bottom in my two marriages but, I was also a man. You have SO MUCH potential.
Look, I feel the anger, resentment and sometimes rage you feel against straight society and their hateful "normal" standards. I get it. You want to give them the middle finger. Well, you can do it like a low-class nigger in the hood, which is the equivalent of what a white drag queen is, or you can do it by taking them on at their on standard and surpassing them. Wearing all the shit or wearing your pants down around the bottom of your ass is the same social rebellion. Is it helping the cause? NO. Quite the opposite.
Finally, I find you too educated, too intuitive, too hopeful for real love to not say something. You have youth on your side...for now. Stop wasting it. Nothing would make me happier than to see you successful, happy and wealthy. I swear I mean that. I don't blame you for not being interested in me. I've got more work to do on me. I've been threw a lot. Also, I'm 48. You deserve someone masculine, young, beautiful and destined for success. You will never find him doing that shit! "

This man has gone completely against everything I believe in and stand for. I began to think that he was just trolling (troll: a person who sows discord on the Internet by starting arguments or upsetting people) me. It ruined my day. I was brushing my teeth and looked at myself in the mirror. It was in that exact moment that I decided that this man had put so much negativity into the world. It was in that exact moment that I decided I would not allow him to do this to me, or anyone else. Then, magic happened. I received another message that morning. It was from a classmate of mine back in high school. I haven't spoken to her since, and she is a very religious person. I could only imagine what she was going to say.

"One of the things I have always admired most about you is that you're so very brave. Please don't ever stop being who you are no matter what that means. I happen to think that you are wonderful and beautiful 100% of the time whether you were a tuxedo, or stilettos. I don't think you know yet the impact you will have on the world, but it's going to be profound."

Magic.

Then, a different female messaged me. "hey.. i saw what all just happened on your page and i just had to message you and thank you for being such an awesome person and not letting people get away with that kinda talk. It makes me feel like there is hope in the world that not everyone is a giant jerk.  I hope the rest of your day goes awesome. It made my day when I saw what you said.. because as a person with very low self confidence sometimes, i would have probably just gotten upset and never said anything. what you said showed me that its okay to stand up and be myself... and if people cant accept me it's not my fault. it's pretty much changed my outlook on things for the better"

Now the story changes. I suddenly felt validated. I suddenly felt like me going through that was only so I could help someone else out. There are a few morals to this story I would like to share. First and foremost, you never know how much of an impact the words that you say can have on someone, good or bad. Next, the generation before me, be it gay or straight, still have like minded qualities. It will take us to be ambassadors to truly show "the new normal," even if it means we get some criticism along the way. Lastly, we must stop going out of our way to be hateful to other people. The world is cruel enough without the human race helping it. 


My brother is my closest confidant. He knows every struggle and challenge I face. One day he sent me a picture. This picture is so very powerful, but not because of the image. It is because of the words. I will leave you with a picture of my own, along with those powerful words. In closing, to the world I say nothing will stop me from being me....or Amanda for that matter.

                                          Small minds can't comprehend big spirits.
    To be great, you have to be willing to be mocked, hated, and misunderstood.
                                                                 stay strong.

A Dirty Word

"Nine out of ten motherfuckers agree that his fucking foul language is a fucking travesty.
But motherfucking fuck is just another fucking word the idea a word is dirty is to him fucking absurd." - Jay Brannan

Curse Word.

What is a "dirty" word? Who sat down one day and decided words will be "bad" and that we should not say them, especially around children? What makes a word bad? Is it the context of a word?

I fucking hate you.

Bad, yeah? What about this...

I freaking hate you.

Is it the word "fuck" that makes the first sentence bad? Both words are used in the exact same context. Both words have the exact same malicious intent, yet somehow "fucking" is worse than "freaking." Why is it we teach children this?

What in the hell is going on?

Bad.

He was condemned to hell.

In this case, both are considered nouns, yet one is far worse than the other one. What is the difference between one being a place and the other being a thing? Furthermore, what is "the hell?" Are we referring to the "hell" that is referenced in the second sentence?

You're a dick.

Tell me something I don't know.

My dick.


Same exact word. Yet, it is more acceptable to call someone a dick, rather than refer to the limb between my legs. Speaking of dicks...Why in the heaven (very much acceptable, same context. See above statement.) can a female say certain things to males, but males can't say certain things to females?

He's a dick.

She's a cunt.

Which is worse? If I were a gambling man, I would bet you chose the latter of the two. But why? Lastly, the word "bitch." How versatile is it.

She's my bitch.

She's a bitch.

The bitch just had a litter of puppies.

Rank these in order of acceptable to non acceptable. Easily done, yeah? How about this one?

Eat shit.

Let me grab my shit.

I need to take a shit.

Hhhhm. Very peculiar.  Now let's direct our focus to some other words.

Penis.

Vagina.

Why have we let it become the standard that these words are bad? Why should we resort to referring to them as peepees and who-has? Regardless of the silly word you replace it with, you are still talking about the exact same thing. A penis is a part of the body. The same as a finger, a brain, or a heart.

Today, I urge you to think critically. Challenge the status quo. Fight for what you believe in. Lastly, I leave you with this. To the social "standards" in the world, I raise my middle finger. I say freak you, darn you, damn you, and of course, fuck you.

The Pink Wig

What is it about the pink wig that I love so much? Is it the attention?

Nope.

Is it the color itself?

Nah.

Is it the fact that it's a wig?

No.

It's the memories that go into it. What memories?

There was once a very special person in my life. This person was better than any boy at the club or in the office. This person was so near and dear to me. I came to college in the fall of 2010. I had just graduated high school, and I was ready for the next adventure of my life. After only weeks of being there, it was where I was meant to be. I was raised by my father and my mother until the age of 7, at which point my father passed away. My mother turned to drugs, leaving my grandmother to raise me from that point forward.

My grandmother (Memaw) taught me more things in my life than any other person. She taught me to use the love I was gifted with to help someone out. Throughout my life, I have tried to apply to this everything that I do. I slip every once in a while....okay. I slip a lot. But hell, who doesn't?  Memaw was the kindest and most compassionate person I have ever encountered. I sometimes believe that her sole purpose in life was to raise me and instill this kindness and compassion into me. I think she did a great job at doing that.

Memaw suffered from many medical complications. To put it simply, when I go to the doctor I check every box for "family history." Every night, I would pray as I lay in bed. This is something Memaw also taught me to do. She told me that I should always start my prayers by saying thank you for three things. It should be three different things from last night, and three different things from what I will say thanks for tomorrow night. She explained that God is constantly getting requests, complaints, and worries. She then asked me if I would enjoy it if every time she greeted me it was the pains and struggles of her day. It all made too much sense. I was sure to start doing it. Regardless of the three things I would be thankful for, the one consistent prayer I made was this..."Dear God, please allow me to keep Memaw around just until I go to college." I was old enough to know that although I would have preferred her to stick around until I died, she was getting older.

Little did I know, God would definitely accommodate my request. I was a freshman in college when I received a call. It was Memaw. She had told me she was diagnosed with brain cancer. I started crying and she started laughing. She told me not to worry. She told me that everything would work out the way it was meant to be. I was so overwhelmed with dysphoria by this statement. How can she say that? Does she know how much she means to me? I made it a point to try and come home more often with this diagnosis. She's had cancer before, but the fact that it was brain cancer concerned me. Three cancers ago, I made her a promise. If she lost her hair due to chemo or radiation, I would shave my hair off as well. She told me I was stupid and I had better not. Unfortunately, she had no say in the matter. A few weeks after being diagnosed with brain cancer, her hair started falling out. I am a man of my word, so I surprised her with a phone call. All she could hear was the sound of clippers. As emotional as the situation was, I was sure to take advantage of it. I pretended to be Britney Spears while shaving parts of it off.

The next weekend, I decided to go home. I sat in the living room of Memaw's one bedroom apartment in a retirement home and she brought out a notebook. She said we were going to plan her funeral.

Are you fucking serious?

She would have hit my shoulder had she have heard me say the above statement. But for real, are you serious?! I told her no. She then told me something that I will never forget. "Dying is all apart of living." In order to live, we must die. In order to die, we must live. So I sat there. After being awkwardly quiet, I finally said okay. She told me the songs she wanted at her funeral. She told me the poems she wanted read. She told me the pictures she wanted displayed. It was a very surreal moment. I guess funeral planning really takes it out of you, because we were both pretty hungry at the end of it. That's not saying much though. If there is one person I could always count on eating with me, it was Memaw. We decided that we would go to our favorite diner in town. Right before we left, I had an idea. "Memaw, let's have some fun. Let's give the town something to talk about." I told her my idea, and she was completely against it. After 30 minutes of nagging, she finally agreed. When we showed up to the diner, this is what walked through the front door.

                                                                        The Pink Wig.

Although I usually wear the pink wig out and get black out drunk in it, it means much more than that.

Love.
Kindness.
Compassion.
Happiness.
Memories.
Optimism.

But above all, the pink wig means Memaw.

The Waiting Game

Why is it that when we wait for something, that something seems to take forever? That vacation in two months. The payday at the end of the pay period. Hell, it could possibly even be just a simple Friday at end of the week. Wait. Wait. Wait. I'm currently playing the waiting game. Being so competitive, I hate the waiting game. It's a lose/lose. The ball is not in my court. The phone has only 6% battery. The bank account has only $0.92. It's not good no matter how you look at it. Go ahead, try and look at it differently.

I told you so.

So which waiting game am I playing? Allow me to explain.


About three weeks ago, a strapping young lad entered the office. His lips were succulent. His eyes were dreamy. His hair was a little blown by the wind, but hey, you can't have your cake and eat it too, right? Anyway. Upon entering, we made eye contact and he immediately turned away. It was peculiar yet cute. He approached the desk and looked at the front desk manager sitting next to me.

"Hello ma'am. Can you tell me what I would need to do to live on campus during the summer?" She replied with the standard answer, "Absolutely! You will need to be enrolled in 6 credit hours." "Oh. Okay. I don't want to take any classes before I actually start so that's okay."

The entire time I was shooting laser beams into him  staring at him in a dazed state. He of course

"I also have another question. Can you tell me if the music building is open?" My manager noticed my fixated eyeballs me looking his direction. She slyly directed him to me. "Alex here can answer that better than I can." He glanced at me. I smiled. He smiled back then turned his head down. "The music building should be open. They usually are." He smiled....at my manager. "Okay. Thank you both for your help." He started to walk out of the door and glanced at me. He noticed he still held my gaze I was trying to keep eye contact and turned away.

I saw him walking away and I said out loud "Why didn't I give him my number?" Hindsight. What a bitch. Then I did what any normal person at work would do. Tweeted about it. "To whoever that strapping young lad with the succulent lips was that just came into the office, please come back and give me your name and number." The end.

Wrong.

I was sitting at my usual spot here in the office when my manager came in. She looked at me and said "I need to talk to you." I immediately knew I was in trouble. I usually stay that way. She pulled me into the hallway and said "You know that boy that you thought was cute a few weeks ago? The music building guy? Well, I found out that I actually see him when I leave class at night." I said "What?! Why don't you give him my number?!!" She laughed. "Do you honestly want me to? Because I will." "Well duh I want you to. Do it tonight!" She laughed again and said "I will if I see him."

The next day she came into the office. I was waiting to hear what had happened. She came in and had a smile on her face. I knew what this meant. She explained to me that before class, she went to the doctor because her leg was bothering her. The doctor had to remove quite a bit of excess fluid from her knee. She knew she had a test in class that evening, so she didn't want to take any major pain medication so she could take the test without being influenced by the medicine. By the time she left class, she was hot, sweaty, and looked awful. She was slowly walking to her car when he exited the music building.

"Ma'am, are you okay?" She looked at him and explained her situation. "Here. Let me carry your bag for you." She handed her bag over. "Thank you again for helping me a while back when I was in your office." "No thank you for helping me with my bags. It is my job to help you. But speaking of the office, I have someone in there that is interested in you." "Unfortunately, I am not interested in girls. I am sorry." He said. She laughed and said "Luckily for you, it's a guy." She said he perked up a bit. "Oh? Is it the boy I wouldn't look at when I was in there?" "Actually, yes." She said. Excited, he said "Really?!" She nodded her head. "Here. I am going to give you his number and you can text him if you'd like." "His number? Really?! I...I am kind of a shy person. I'm actually very shy. That's why I didn't want to look at him when I was in your office. Is it okay if I take your number as well? I mean, if I need your help or anything. I'm new to the area and I don't really know anyone." She smiled. "Not a problem at all." At this point, they reached her car. He opened her door for her, took her bag to the other side, came back around to her and said "Are you sure you're okay to drive? It's not a problem at all if I need to call your husband or anything." She said "No. Thank you very much though." He smiled and told her to have a good night.

Wait.

Now I wait. It's been two days now, and I've yet to hear anything from the music building boy.  My office keeps telling me to be patient. I don't have patience. I have never had patience. He seemed to be interested in me. I am interested in him. So now what happens?

There's only one thing that is keeping me between meeting this boy.

Wait.

Friend Zoned

What do you do when there's an individual that you find attractive, but they are incredibly vague as to how they really feel about you? I mean, you text a lot. Daily. You text a lot daily. But that's the extent of the relationship. He is too busy with work. You're too busy school. They are too busy for each other. Yet, somehow, they continue to communicate daily with characters and emojis.

There's laughter. Lots of laughter. Laughter is good for the heart, mind, body, and soul. You both definitely manage to text "ha," "haha," or my personal favorite "hahahahaha" a decent amount of times each day.

There's his personality. He makes you laugh. He makes you envious of his accomplishments.  When he texts you nerdy things, he makes you want to meet him. Nerds are hot.

There's flirting. Oh yeah, there's definitely that. But is that all there is? Two individuals who like to flirt? How do you find out what the other is thinking? When you ask, he simply says he's very busy with work. But is that the true reason behind those hazel eyes?

There's his body. Wow. Does he have a body or what? You've only seen it once in a pic. It almost lead to sexting, but that came later. Is that the reason you haven't met? Is his body too good for yours? We always tell ourselves we can do better. But at what point can you not do any better? Can you sell yourself short by trying too hard?

Speaking of sexting, maybe that's what he wants. Sex. You've only sexted maybe twice, but maybe you sent out the wrong impression.

There's always giving up. Is it your fault you haven't met or is it his? Is it anyone's fault at all? Is it an actual problem or something you've created within yourself?

Is this the true meaning of the "friend zone?" Does one know that you're in the friend zone if it's never verbally said? Should you just assume you're in the friend zone?

You'd like to think he gets you. He puts up with your antics. Encourages you to be who you are and wear what you want. So what is stopping either of you?

It's a simple fix to escape the friend zone, right? Wrong.

Maybe he simply thinks you're crazy. I mean, you kind of are. Right? Right.

The Boy In the Pink Wig

Some of you may or may not know, but I have had some insecurities come about that have been something of a problem for me lately. I'm not going to share this with you in hopes of gaining compliments or encouragement. That is not the reason I am writing this. In order for you to understand the true beauty of it all, you have to know the struggles that went into it.

I have been single for a little over a year quite some time. Over this year, I have lost weight, bought different clothes, changed habits, created hobbies... All in hopes of finding someone to call mine. I knew all along changing things about myself to seem more attractive to someone was a stupid decision, but we make stupid decisions daily. This one can just be added to my list.

After some self-evaluation, discussion with prospects, and most definitely some heartache, I realized that being a boy who likes heels probably doesn't help my cause in the search for a companion. Most (if not all) guys I encountered along my journey only wanted "masculine" guys, and I'm smart enough to know that sequined tops, pink wigs, and stilettos aren't going to pass as masculine. For those who didn't actually prefer "masc" guys, they ended up just not preferring me.

I was dancing last night in the typical weekend outfit consisting of a skirt and wig, minus the heels. I tried wearing a new pair out the night before and ended up coming home with a few blisters. I am dancing and having a great time when I see a girl dragging her friend my direction.

(imagine this conversation happening while slightly intoxicated and with twerk inducing music pounding through your soul)

"Hi! My friend thinks you're cute."
"Tell your friend I think he's cute."
She turns to him. "He thinks you're cute!!!"

He shyly laughs, and realized he might need a little more encouragement.  He throws back what little Amaretto Sour he had left, and stepped closer. "Wanna dance?" He asks. Without question, I reply "Duh." So we danced. After a good 7-8 songs of grinding, twerking, werking, and dirty dancing, he says to me "I think I'm going to go dance with my friends some more. They will be mad if I don't." "That's okay. Go have fun with them! I prefer to dance onstage so everyone can see me." I say in reply. He laughs. "Well, I'll keep an eye out for some killer moves. Thank you for dancing with me." As I start to reply, he grabs my face, pulls me in and works my mouth like a Wal-Mart store on the first of the month. 

It was Heaven.

I had fun. I was so happy I had finally gotten, although short lived, some romantic attention from an attractive guy. I didn't even have to log in to Grindr. I continued dancing, because I knew that my fun was over.

Wrong.

Three songs later, he came back. "I...I have been watching you dance and it turns me on so badly. Can we dance together some more?" He took my smile for the "yes" that it was meant to be and grabbed me by the waist and started moving to the music. Remember the part where I was wearing a skirt? Apparently, the combination of a hot and sweaty boy grinding on me plus the hormones I was blessed with caused parts of my male anatomy to emerge. I didn't particularly care until the bachelorette party came at me with open hands, if you catch my drift. The bride-to-be said she loved two things.

Roosters and cats. Think about it.

Prince Charming The guy I was dancing with laughed out loud. He told the women that "unfortunately I was his for the night." I was more than okay with it. We danced some more and he caught me staring at him like an 11 year girl (or guy) does to their Zac Efron poster on their ceiling. He stopped dancing and said "I'm sure people criticize and judge you a lot for your fun clothes, don't they?" I laughed a little and said "yeah!" He shook his head and said "I hate people who are like that. I find your pink wig cute. But I bet the person under the wig is even cuter."

I took the wig off.

He smiled and said "You shouldn't hide that face from the world."

This time, I grabbed his face and started kissing him. I held nothing back. I didn't care that there were 200 people around me with the ability to watch my every move. This was my moment.

Our moment.

We stopped kissing and he said "I want to get to know you more, so badly." I replied "Let's do it." His gorgeous smile slowly turned into a gorgeous frown. He said "I don't think I'd get anything out of one day but sadness." I said "Well it's a good thing it doesn't have to be just one day!" He said "I head back for the army on Monday."

Suddenly I was in my own twisted episode of Army Wives. Disappointed, I said "That sucks." After all of this time, I had finally met a man that found my crazy clothing, wigs, and dance moves attractive. I think he could see the true disappointment in me. He then replied "Yeah, it truly does. But what sucks more are the people that judge and criticize you. Never let the haters throw you off. They're just jealous they can't rock a pink cat wig."

There it is. 

Such a bittersweet moment in time. The culmination of quite possibly the biggest insecurity I face, resolved by a stranger.

After more dancing, I took his number and walked away with many mixed emotions. Happy it happened. Sad it was over. Mad it couldn't last longer. A longing for more.

I woke up today less drunk but more clear on how I felt about it. I didn't text him. I couldn't text him.  It would be just another bad decision to add to the list. I went to a film festival which required me to turn off my phone for periods of time. When I finally turned my phone back on, I had three text messages. The first, a simple smile emoticon. The second, a simple "Thank you for the incredible time last night." The third, "I was hoping we could hang out before I left Monday. Let me know if you're still interested."

Of course I was.

I replied to him and invited him to the festival, as my friend managed to score an extra pass. He replied "I would love that. However, I just received some news that is going to make me leave a little sooner than expected. I'm throwing my crap in my car right now. I'm so sorry. I think you're very handsome. Please don't hate me. I really wanted it." I sat there for a moment, trying to form some sort of response, and instead turned my phone back off. After the next two screenings, I turned my phone back on and finally had a response.

"I'm sorry we didn't get to hang. You're very attractive yourself.  Make me a promise...I can only speak from personal experience, but it definitely had an impact on me. Always dance with the boy in the pink wig. You never know how happy it could make him."

A Boy Who Likes Heels

I have been so bothered the past few weeks with a lot of things. The one thing that seems to be a continual frustration for me, is the fact that members of the LGBTQI community are so quick to say "don't judge us," yet, we are also the quickest to judge. I'm not going to sit here and say I don't judge. I do. I am a bitch, I admit. But, to simply put it, I'm human. It happens.  However, why must we be labeled?

I am a man. I like men. I like to wear women's clothing. I don't want to be a woman. I don't want to marry a woman. I don't want to look like, act like, sound like, or BE like a woman.

A friend who is very similar to me said "Do you realize that if we lived in a society where gender stereotypes weren't such an issue, it wouldn't be an issue at all that you are wearing heels right now."

Stop. Think...

How much more true can a statement be? Furthermore, why have we let it become a standard that a female in her boyfriend's boxers is natural, but a male in female panties is wrong? I'm not going to lie. As I type this, I even think the sight of this is peculiar. But why???

Let's backtrack a little bit. Why can't I wear a sequined top I purchased for $0.99 and some heels without being considered a "drag queen?" Is it the fact that I'm wearing a pink cat wig? Why can't I just do me? More importantly, if I were to do drag, do you honestly think I wouldn't try little bit harder?  

HELLO?

I guess at the end of my rant, I leave you with this. This dilemma I face on an regular basis.  Why must I have so many labels to describe who I am?  With all of these labels, which one am I?

Mammal.
Human.
Man.
Gay.
Fem.
Queer.

I am all of those. But which one am I? When asked to define myself, what do I say? In a perfect world, I'd get away with not being labeled as anything. Alas, the world isn't perfect and neither was my bar tab. So, what is that something? Why can't I just be a boy who likes heels?