This photo is straight out of the camera from my iPhone, no editing or tweaking. I just love how vibrant and diverse the colors are of the leaves. Simply wonderful! I’d love to say I’m done going on and on about how much I love fall, but I can’t make any promises. The colors this year are just too beautiful.
I warn you in advance, this post will contain very dramatic and schmaltzy prose which may induce nausea among people with weaker constitutions.
Fall has to be my favorite season of all. In talking with a couple friends I’ve found that this sentiment is not shared by all. Some see it as the throes of death before the dark, cold slumber of winter. When this was explained to me today it made complete sense to me how people could see it as such. I hadn’t ever thought of it in that manner but it does make sense. In fact that description helped me to distill a description for the way I have felt about autumn. I’ve seen it as a time of intense color and beauty as nature prepares itself for the reincarnation of spring after the still and calm rest of winter. I don’t see it as death so much as I see it as a time of celebrating life, even more so than spring.
Autumn is a magical time of golden radiance. The sun is starting to hang lower in the sky and the light is sharper and warmer. It is a perpetual golden hour, that time in the morning or evening when you can point your eyes or camera at almost anything and capture images of clarity and beauty. I love the drama of the change, positive and ultimately constructive change, in nature which is immersive of all the senses. The light and color, the earthy smell of the ground and the rain, the crisp crunching of the leaves, the colder air carries sound clearly, and the abundant tastes of the harvest.
After the frozen, brisk, intimate solitude of winter, nature stretches to wake once more making the world lush, fresh and free. The summer months then bring radiance, energy. Autumn brings the diversity and gifts of the other three seasons together, nature’s magnum opus, for the most stunning performance of the year. There is a new sense of intimacy and stillness along with refreshing cool air and earthiness with vibrance and light. An additional intangible element, one of maturity and majesty, makes autumn to preside over all the other seasons, bringing them into its court and commanding the finest qualities.
I realize that I made a similar post last year, it just goes to show how much I love this season. This autumn had a very strong beginning which quickly gave way to harsher winter conditions for a brief time which then melted away for warmer, almost summer-like weather. I’m hoping fall will be extended this year for additional enjoyment. With luck, I will be able to get out and take more photos and soak up the last traces of color and warmth before winter sets in for good.
Yesterday I had an interview at work. Accordingly I got all dressed up to the nines in my suit and tie, completely forgetting that it was Halloween day for work and people were dressed up in costumes, not to mention it was casual Friday. The suit was interpreted by co-workers as a costume of some sorts which I was happy to perpetuate to offset any awkwardness I was wont to feel and was thus spared feeling uncomfortable in my clothes as an addition to my normal pre-interview nerves.
This post, oddly enough, isn’t about the interview or the suit so much as a conversation these two things led to. A coworker asked me how the interview had gone and the conversation touched on how out of place the suit felt which led to some very unexpected and very stirring comments of praise which I was not expecting. These comments, these very specifically worded comments, were not so much about my performance at work so much as about the person I am. Now, I don’t know about everyone else, but I tend to thrive on feedback and validation. I have frequently stated that I am a feedback-based life form. It is just one of the things that makes me tick. It may seem weak or strange or any number of things, but feedback – especially positive feedback – really makes me happy. This particular set of comments were very noteworthy for me though.
This year has been a very tumultuous one. I’ve left my comfort zone a great deal this year to get out and try new things, meet people and have fun in ways I haven’t tried before. I was met with a lot of successes and have made some new friends, rejoined with old ones, gained a roommate, and had fun outside of my normal activities and learned a lot. I was also met with a lot of failures. I lost a close friendship of mine, I managed to completely lose my nerve and creative drive behind sharing my coming out story, not to mention the fact that this was The Year of a Million First Dates. The successes have dramatically outweighed what I perceive as failures and really, most of these failures are not failures so much as negative experiences.
I’ve been very careful in not talking about dating here because the last thing anyone needs (including myself) is some god-awful, self-aggrandizing dialogue to pop up here after bad dates which is unflattering for every party involved. I will, however, take a moment to comment on The Year of a Million First Dates. This year I went on numerous first dates, almost all of which I considered to be very good dates with very promising people.
The problem is that in spite of the fact the other people involved would claim they also enjoyed the date, they would become very remarkably busy after having a reasonable surplus of time. Words like “soon” or even “very soon” would be used to describe when they would next be free to go out. The conversation would then peter and they would generally disappear. For people who went so far as to set a second date, an overwhelming trend of severe and debilitating stomach disorders kicked in. It was frustrating at first, then dependable, and ultimately quite humorous. I can confirm that one person did, in fact, contract a very dangerous and very real case of food poisoning but he was one of two people who made the second date. Twelve months and only two second dates.
I had been more than willing, almost eager, to try and find fault with myself for all of this. I very logically turned to the scientific method which would suggest that after so many failures and the one easily identifiable constant variable being myself, I was to blame. That was the simplest answer I could come up with. It was either that or being more of a homebody was saving me from getting the widespread radiation poisoning. (Homebodies FTW!) This isn’t a very healthy train of logic though. It’s the kind of thinking that starts to chip away at self-esteem and makes people begin to think very little of themselves. A couple months ago I determined that there was another simple answer which fit the situation better. There is something wrong with all of them, or to be more fair, some thing in each of them made them for a bad fit with me.
The people who matter in my life, the friends and people who remain constant and genuine, serve as a constant silent validation that I am a good person. I am thankful for them every day and relish the opportunities I get to spend time with them and speak to them. A couple of them give me very direct validation (both for feelings and my parking) when I’m down and need it the most. But yesterday, unbidden, this relatively new person in my life helped me put all the pieces together. He complimented me for being me, not compromising that in an attempt please others, and that being me was a good thing… What an awesome concept, one which can be forgotten all too easily. One that I must strive to never forget again.
Happy anniversary, house! And happy 101st birthday! Yay!
I have now lived in my home for a year and what a year it has been. I can barely believe it. Pretty much every day for the past year I have woken up every morning expecting Ashton Kutcher to show up with a film crew saying, “HA! Just kidding! You didn’t actually buy a house! Now get the hell out.” Following that moment we would all sit around the TV and see secret camera footage of all the embarrassing footage of the things I do around the house when I’m alone. The world would sit and watch, agog, as I sing off-key and dance around the house, my limbs tilting wildly, looking as though I were trying not be eaten by a shark.
But during the last few weeks I realized that unlike my rent, which I always held off on paying till the last conceivable moment, I look forward to paying my mortgage. I’ve learned a great deal about taking care of myself and my surroundings as well as gained a greater appreciation for a lot of things. For instance, I recall as a child I was always incredulous as to why the garage wasn’t just clean. Why not? It’s sitting right there, not as if you have to pounce on it and hold it down like a muddy dog or anything. Suddenly, it’s all quite clear that sometimes when you start to look at that “little” project, you have to consider what I call the Snowball Factor.
The Snowball Factor is best illustrated using the following: Let’s say that someone wanted to organize the office and get things tidy. They want to get some organizers, maybe a desk because they haven’t had one forever and they are sick of paying the bills in bed and have stubbed their toe on the printer (which lives on the floor) for the millionth time in the middle of the night. They set out to pick up just a handful of supplies and they wake up a couple hours later, face down in the gutter outside of Ikea. They are surrounded by (the amazingly delightful and fun omni-directional) rolling carts and eco-friendly blue bags laden with storage boxes, shelving, a desk, new living room furniture, lighting, a cute vase they found in the “as-is” section and a bag of frozen meatballs. Their wallet has been pillaged and is sitting a couple feet away on the ground with the cash now spent and useless credit and debit cards skittering around on the pavement in the late night breeze.
Ahem. (Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or real events is purely coincidental.)
I’ve also grown to appreciate the security of living in a home, though it took some getting used to. You see, living in an apartment it felt as though someone had my back. I knew that if a psycho killer were to pop out from behind the shower curtain, someone would hear me scream like a schoolgirl and at least complain to the management, if not call the cops. I was also on the third floor so I knew I wouldn’t have to worry quite so much about the zombie uprising. It is so much easier to defend just the stairs without worrying about the windows too. When I moved into my home I was completely paranoid. I felt exposed and almost in danger with all four sides of my dwelling being exposed to the outside world. Zombies could attack at any moment and just come right on in through the windows. Then I realized that the threat of zombies is a small price to pay for the quiet of not hearing muffled TVs, music, or Luka walking into doors every night. After a while I realized that ten inches of brick are pretty dang solid and I started to feel really grounded.
One of the most exciting things about owning my home has been the creative freedom. Though I haven’t painted yet (I’m hoping to do so before the end of the month) the understanding that I can TOTALLY do that if I want to is intoxicating. It’s a good thing I don’t have cable anymore simply because I can’t have the temptation of HGTV, TLC and the DIY networks fill my head with all sorts of dangerous ideas. I’ve been able to really expand my creativity in ways I hadn’t thought of before and opened me up to new design aesthetics I hadn’t previously explored. I’ve had to stretch myself to think about how to work with the character of a 101 year old building which was actually one of the only things I hadn’t contemplated and obsessed over before I purchased the house. I’m sure I will continually change and that my creative process in all areas will evolve in response to the incredible character and life my house of its own.
The most deeply satisfying thing has been the opportunity to invite friends and family to spend time in my home. It’s so much more personal and comfortable having people over and sharing a very personal space with them instead of the current rented stall. Not to look down on renter’s situations whatsoever, they work really well and were perfectly suited to my needs for several years. But, for whatever reason, the three years I spent in apartments were three slightly awkward years which gave me the feeling I was staying in glorified La Quintas, though these ones weren’t great with cleaning the room or changing the bedding for me. The lack of room-service hasn’t changed, but the environment is significantly different and the level of attachment and comfort is well beyond that of any other place I’ve lived.
The 12 months I spent working up the courage, crunching the numbers, searching and sifting and finally closing on the largest purchase of my life were some of the most stressful and aggravating months of my life. They payoff has been amazing though. The last year has been one of the greatest and most relaxed years I’ve ever enjoyed. The sense of accomplishment may have waned somewhat, but the rewarding independence and freedom have only grown with each passing day.
Recently I had been starting to succumb to the spreading lack of faith in government and waning confidence in the Obama administration’s campaign promises of securing equal rights for the LGBT community. Though it has only been six months since the President has taken office, there were a handful of small signs which made me feel uneasy about the reality of what was going to happen.
There had been updates to sections of the White House website page concerning the civil rights agenda of the administration. It had dropped the specific wording referencing the Defense of Marriage Act (DOMA) and efforts to repeal it with a more general phrase stating the administration “opposes a constitutional ban on same-sex marriage”. There has also been talk about progress in reversing the Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell (DADT) policies which bar gay men and women from serving in the military, but people are still being ousted. Additionally, just days after the Justice Department made a very strong show up support for DOMA, President Obama signed a memorandum extending same-sex benefits to federal employees. While there were no signs of a dramatic about-face it appeared that the support for the gay community was growing tepid.
Then, on Monday, President Obama and the First Lady hosted an unprecedented reception to celebrate LGBT Pride Month and mark the 40th anniversary of the Stonewall Riots which kick-started the Pride movement. He delivered a very beautiful speech making it very clear he is still an advocate for the gay community. Watching it, I was awestruck to see a man elected to office in the face of decades of racial discrimination, standing there in the White House as my president pledging support for me as a gay American and promising to be my champion. This, only a handful of years after the last president stood in the White House stating, in so many words, that a ban on gay marriage was the only way to secure the future of our nation from the forces of evil. Though I am not ready to say, “all is forgiven, obviously this was just some big misunderstanding,” my confidence has been buoyed significantly after hearing his remarks:
Until the last year or so, I’ve not been very politically aware or active. I’m still not extremely informed, nor do I consider myself very much of an activist. However, for the first time in my life I have a vested stake in what is happening, these things directly affect me and how I will live my life. I have never been so frustrated on a personal level with politics as I have regarding DOMA. The recent ruling from the justice claimed that DOMA is “a cautious policy of federal neutrality towards a new form of marriage,” when in fact it is anything but neutral. It affects me negatively on personal level as well as having impacts on me professionally. Every morning for months I have got up in the morning and started my day only to realize with great disappointment that DOMA is still out there. That I am not equal. I am not the same. Even if I were to get married in a state which recognizes me as an equal citizen among my peers, the federal government would not be so kind.
I was growing more and more impatient regarding the seemingly apparent ambivalence toward the gay community recently from the White House and I began writing about my dissatisfaction though I had not yet decided to share these thoughs. In a way I’m happy I was late to the game because I hate the idea that I might give people who dislike the administration the satisfaction of knowing I was not satisfied. More than anything though, I’m disappointed that I didn’t take the opportunity to be more vocal. I feel that it is one of the very few ways I can try and reach out and make more people aware of these situations, to share my determination and my story and try to somehow spur change on my own.
In the future I hope to be more vocal about these things. I plan to be an advocate for myself and other people like me regarding issues like this. I realize that I’m just one small voice in a sea of thousands upon thousands of other people both for and against these issues. But standing silently has even less of an impact than even this tiny effort and right now, every little bit counts.