Moving x5

Over the past three years I have lived in four different apartments. At noon on Sunday I will be adding a fifth residence to this list. While at the time of lease signing/first seeing this apartment (OMG IT IS SO CUTE. THE ONE!1!!) it seemed like a normal, good decision, I really do not feel that way right now.

Let me break my neurotic, crazy brain down for you. The season of Fall makes me drunk and/or like an innocent child with her heart and mind open to everything. This is stupid. I am stupid. During my last three month binge on life,  I was idiot and signed a new lease. I was not thinking about how I would be eating white rice at 11:22 PM too cure my upset stomach the night before move-out because A. I ate too many of my old oxycodons (sleeping is so hard) and B. I have anxiety streaming out of my every pore. These were not factors. My thoughts were the following:

1. OMGOD. I can paint the walls. I am going to paint murals of my cats and cats that I wish I owned and cats that only I can see because they are imaginary and/or paint a wall gold.

2. I like that kitchen. Yup. Prime lasagna making location.

3. It will be nice to move. A fresh start, ya know?!

4. Bars everywhere. I want to be drunk on alcohol AND life all at the same time!

5. $$$ saved so I can spend it at bars mentioned above.

Each of these is a VERY POOR reason to move. Number 2 might be sort of legitimate because that is really important to me, and the oven I currently am working with could probably not even fit my lasagna pan. But, still. If I could trade this very moment and all the moments from now until Sunday night in exchange for either A. not moving at all or B. someone(s) doing it for me, I would do that.

Moral of this post: Come help me move tomorrow and I will buy you alcohol and/or anything from the black market.

xo - MS, oak

The One that Got Away

     A year doesn't go by without some shitty "Rom-Com" being released that features the same classic, somewhat cliche key point. A wise voice of reason tells one of the two lovers their story about "the one that got away." This story, that has received little to no revisions since the fucking Elizabethan era, serves as a window into the wise one's soul. They take a moment to ignore their cancer or bullet wound or whatever makes them a tragic character to impart some serious plot-changing wisdom.

"Yur n0t gettin away. Lolz."

      As hard as it is for us idiot moviegoers to believe (according to the film industry), these now "ugly" (old), "clueless" (old) and "lifeless" (dying due to old age) characters once had a moment in which they met their soul mate. Unfortunately for their sorry, old asses, something along the lines of war, segregation or being beaten by another contender got in the way of true love. This, for some reason, gives these characters the right to pass along the lesson (which they fucked up themselves) to one of the movie's star-lovers; don't let them get away!

     We've all seen these movies, and we all know that he/she doesn't get away. They're caught, and before the buzz-killing, real stuff can kick-in, the movie cuts-out. That's probably why our generation sees love in the way that we do; once obtained, nothing in life is ever, ever difficult again. Most of us are inspired to keep our eyes open and our traps set; we can't let our soul mate get away. I, however, look at it in a different way than most.

      A bitter taste can settle in my mouth when I think about high school. The predominant reason for that is my pathetic love life. As a gay man, who has been out since eighth grade, I didn't have as many options. I graduated with not one sexual experience, or even kiss under my belt. Rather than take the high road and consider what I could have done differently, I took advice from all-star fag-hag Grace Adler and blamed those around me.

God.

     Despite the fact that I look back on high school with a little sadness, I won't look at it with regret...well, about my love life at least. The point is, I'm not going to re-think every thing I could have done just to get myself laid. What I will do instead is think of myself as someone else's "one that got away." I'm going to tell myself that I turned heads and that I was the last thing various boys thought of before they fell asleep. Fuck 'em. I'm the catch that wasn't caught.

Self-Portrait

 _GaDing

In the Depths of Photobucket

I cannot say what triggered the thought that it would be fun to looked through my old Photobucket account, but what's done is done. I did it. I about 82.3% regret it - approximately. Some of the pictures were inappropriate in content and/or ugly. They've been deleted, and I feel little better about myself. Amongst these gross finds, I also discovered there were three main themes of my pictures. So, uh, here they are...

1. I was so vain in high school - because I was pretty hot then.

If you need proof, let's just say I have a lot of it. There is an album titled 'All About Me' under this account, and let me tell you... 357 pictures later I was convinced - Self, you got less hot, but good job being super fine 5-6 years ago!!11! However, my least favorite part of this account actually has to be either the number of 'selfies' or how unbelievable thin I was back then. Dear old self, why did you have an album called 'thinspiration'?! Did you not have mirrors or scales?! New self is not understanding what your crazy mind was thinking. Anyhow, here is proof I was a hot fake ginger/brunette with lots of bones/eye make-up.

Then:

 

(H0+ cr@zy b!+ch.)

Now:

(your average blonde dud hangin' with her best)

Sub-theme to being a hot 15-year-old: I had approximately six different hair colors. I mostly just want to include the picture of me with purple hair. It was not attractive, but I had a heart attack/anxiety attack/laugh attack when it crossed my path. So, you should probably enjoy it too. HERE YA GO.

(freakin' LOL!1!!1)

2. My high school friends were @lt3rn@t!v3 and/or 3m0. Srsly.

No offense to any of my high school homies because honestly... I was no prize either. See: weird 'thinspiration' album. For the record, when I say 'emo', I mean music taste and 'style', which was cool back then. Myspace said so, sort of. Being alternative/emo in my hometown meant the following things:

- eyeliner (gender was not a factor)

- r0cl< shows at Bora Bora Dance Club

- hoodies/white belts (preferably with studs) from HotTopic

- taking a lot of 'selfies' to post on Myspace

- checker slip-on Vans

- multiple hair colors

- drinking/smoking/drugs
-not related: care about being 2004 state champs!11!!1!

- probably more shows at Bora Bora Dance Club

If you did not do/have/desire at least three of these things you were probably an average joe, which means we were not friends and I have no pictures of you under my Photobucket account. SORRZ. You had to look like this to qualify:

AND/OR THIS:

3. I loved my high school boyfriend.

This theme I feel awkward about writing about, but I am just being honest, OKAY?! I did. In a lot of ways, he is still probably one of the best friends I remember having. He was perfect for me at the time, and I don't really have any regrets from that relationship. Actually, if I have any feelings after looking at these old pictures, well, they'd probably be gratefulness and pride. I definitely felt that way at the time (see: nearly 1,000 pictures in 'princess' album and super fucking long relationship). Anyhow, big high fives to you, Jake! You own'd my Photobucket account. Here are a few of the gems (hope you don't mind):

ALRIGHT. So, you're lucky. I didn't post anything too embarrassing for anyone other than myself. If you disagree, SORRZ 'BOUT IT.


xo, MS - oak

You Oughta Know

Oh, to be 7 again.

             It’s difficult to pinpoint the time in a person’s life at which they lock into their own, individual taste in music. We all grow up with constant influences, the strongest of which come from parents, older siblings and what’s on television. In my earliest memorable years of education and, well, life, I can recall listening to Phish and Bob Marley in my dad’s car, eves dropping on my brothers quarrel over who gets to carry Blink-182’s Enema of the State that day and, with the rest of the world, watching Britney Spears shake it in her first music video.

            By the time I was entering 4^th grade, the only concert I had seen was the Blue Man Group. Dope, right? It was around the same time that I had inherited (stole) a very, very unattractive CD-player from someone else in my house. I didn’t have a logical reason to snatch it from its dormant place, seeing as I didn’t own any CD’s, but that changed quickly. After hiding my new, prized possession under my pillow, I made my way to my mother’s car, discreetly of course. I flipped through the few CD’s she had, unfazed by most, until I came across Alanis Morissette’s Jagged Little Pill. Being eight, or whatever, I safely assumed that said pill was a Flintstones' vitamin. I knew the album though, hearing it often in my mother’s car, and knew that I liked it.

Relatable.

           

                A 4^th grade boy listening to “You Oughta Know” on repeat, to and from school, may seem strange, but it also may provide an answer to why I am the way I am. An avid believer in nurture over nature, it only makes sense that I turned out the way I did. Whether or not I was born gay, my perception of men was heavily influenced by this song. I don’t trust them. I partially hate them. The disdain directed towards them, however, comes from jealousy and loneliness. I really have so much love for them. Time went on and Alanis was reduced from a “need to click repeat” artist to an “I used to love this song” artist, but the memory has stayed clear. There once was a time when I couldn’t decipher the meanings of these lyrics, or even recite them, but they spoke nothing but true to me and, as Alanis says, “I thought you should know.”

_GaDing

Fantastic Things about Autumn

Maybe it is the heat, the obnoxious bright sun, the monotony of my work schedule, or some combination of all of these things, but I want/need depleting levels of green, about a 20 degrees drop in the temperature, and some academic-related chaos. It is my belief that with the large exception of my dad, the elderly, and people who have not experienced Autumn/Fall before, everyone really loves this upcoming time of the year. At least, this is the rumor I've been hearing.

I've always felt there was something really intense and rude about the extremes of both summer and winter. In the case of summer, the heat and brightness has always been really offensive to me physically. In fact, being an actual poor college student, it is nearly unbearable. Obviously it is survivable because it is now August and I have lived through two heat waves without air conditioning. (Also, in one 24 hour period, I even lived with limited quantities of water. Thanks, City of Madison!). And, Winter is not much different here. The most important (read: obvious) difference is instead of being impossibly hot and humid, it is just cold and dry for about five straight months. Still bright during winter. Sensitive eyes are not in favor of this!

And, I think this is why Autumn/Fall (and Spring, I guess) ends up being so perfect! It is a healthy medium in temperature, but it also happens to be associated with a lot of my favorite things. I hope you want to hear about them because leggo!

1. Weather.

As previously mentioned, winter and summer are not favorable to my body, especially my eyes. But seriously, my whole body hates both. Too bright. Too hot/too cold. Autumn in Wisconsin usually only lasts for about two months, but it is two months of perfect weather. There is the occasional cool breeze and even with the sun out, it will almost never get past 70 degrees. Also, rain. Let us just take a moment to think about rain because it deserves that sort of respect. Now let me tell you something fantastic about rainy weather. There are obviously so many wonderful things about it but my favorite thing is that it is not snow. Can we all just appreciate that?

2. Clothing.

This is somewhat related to weather because it really relies on outside conditions. While pretty much everyone who knows me, including my parents unfortunately, are well-aware of my dislike of pants, I can certainly tolerate them if it means I am able to wear about 80% of my wardrobe. One of the best things about this time of the year is how flexible I can be with my outfits. In summertime, it is too hot to wear anything other than shorts/skirts, tanktops, or the occasional t-shirt. In winter, it is too cold to not have pants or thick tights on at all times. In Autumn/Fall, however, I get to mix and match pieces from these seasons, which is essentially giving me more bang for my buck. Lame phrase? I'll never use it again. Promise.

3. Music/Movies.

This seems to be a less obvious thing to associate with Autumn/Fall, but I always do, especially the movies part. There are a few reasons it is a smart to schedule a release date during this time of the year. Reason #1: You will make the cut for the upcoming award shows. Better yet, by the time the Academy Awards roll around no one is going to remember the 'Blockbuster' from April because everyone is excited about the one just released in November. BAM. Good job! Reason #2: People like going to movies with their families. While Christmas/Hanukkah are Winter holidays, Thanksgiving is property of the perfect season. Better yet, there is less to do in celebrating Thanksgiving. It is essentially one day, and then you are stuck with each other Friday - Sunday. It seems Hollywood figured this out and usually will have a few gems released right around this time.

Music I honestly love year-round, but I have found a lot of my favorite artists usually tour at the end of summer or very beginning of Fall/Autumn. By the time they reach anywhere near Wisconsin it is usually October or November. Thanks, bands I like! This is clearly not a coincidence or anything!

4. Food

While technically Winter allows me to make all of these things without dying in a boiling hot kitchen, I choose to attribute all of my favorite foods to my favorite time of year because I make them non-stop out of excitement. For the two to three months prior, I am living off cold fruits, sandwiches and sometimes steamed vegetables. So when it starts to be cool enough for me to make beef stew, you better believe it is a weekly event. I'd make this particular dish daily if I had the time, but alas I have a life! Other meals I love that summer prevents me from enjoying: tuna casserole, spaghetti, homemade chicken noodle soup, spinach lasagna, and just about baked anything.

So, I mean, I guess my point is that there are some really fantastic things associated with Fall/Autumn - most of which are due to the mild, kind weather conditions. Big high fives for the best sixty days of the year! You done momma proud.

xo - MS, oak

How Movies Ruined High School

I was born in 1992. My parents were loving, but I remember spending more time with my teenage babysitter, Jackie. Put these two facts together, and it should be easy to assume that a fair amount of my childhood weekends were filled with trips to Blockbuster and visits from Pizza Hut. I welcomed the greasy, sinful heart failure delivered in the form of a PZone and sat happily watching films like 10 Things I Hate About You and She’s All That.

It's no wonder I turned out gay.

Kids of my generation should share my bitterness with the movie industry. How were we supposed to know that high school parties aren’t really like the one that we saw in Can’t Hardly Wait? Was it too much to ask if we could share the hallways with the pseudo-intellectuals from Clueless? Why couldn’t we all have fallen in love with our neighbors/classmates like those definitely-not-eighteen-year-olds from Whatever it Takes or Drive Me Crazy? There isn’t a way to show how sad it makes me to say that there are no answers to these questions. We were lied to.

I like to think of myself as an adaptable person. You could compare me to a chameleon, if you’d like. As a matter of fact, do that. Why not just think of a non-athletic 18-year-old’s body and swap the human head with a chameleon’s head. There. That’s me. “He’s an adaptable freak,” you may say, but that would not be the case for my experience with high school.  The main problem is that my adaptability is conflicted by the occasional surprise visit from stubbornness. So now this chameleon-headed freak is pitted against a menstrual donkey. I wanted to “Macarena,” but was told to “Crank Dat.” I was expecting "Genie In a Bottle," but was given "Disturbia." The donkey stomped Chameleon Boy into a pulp. I was heartbroken, and I couldn’t adapt through the despair. I was anticipating what had been hammered into my head by those asshole producers, but was unfortunately given what a new batch of asshole producers had to offer: Channing Tatum and Ke$ha. Woe is me.

_GaDing