Distraught

So I just spent the last couple of days working on a piece about my recent date with Jake the Jew. When I went to post 5min ago...THE ENTIRE THING DELETED. I am overly distraught and in an emotional place. I planned my day around being able to finish this early and go on with my day. WHO IS SUPPOSED TO BAKE COOKIES?!?! WHO IS SUPPOSED TO COOK FOR FRIENDMAS??

Instead I am going to dance until the world ends and I will write a lot this weekend. Because I have been slacking. Uggghhh stop hating me. ITS CHRISTMAS. 

LOOK: It's Buddy! 

UH-OH, what shenanigans are going to happen with these two crazy snowmen. Silly Snowmen

PUPPIES: Look, they are wearing hats! Dogs don't wear hats, hahaha!

LOOK: It's Buddy again with Mr. Narwal. We know where this tale ends up...in the CANDY CANE FOREST. 

Sooo you really can't be upset with me anymore because I just posted some ADORBZ and HIGHsterical photos. 

Ok crazy kids, I want you all to have a HAPPY HOLIDAZE. Feel free to read about why I will be tweaking for the next few days. CLICK HERE

Fabulously Lost: #blogfail

Christmas: Cures everything 

Jake the Jew: A HIGHsterical story you can read after Xmas. Promise day after.  

Britney Spears: A constant presence in this blog. 

The Next American Idol

So yesterday I mentioned, in my Award Winning Blog (I am going to ride that one for awhile, just an FYI), 11 facts about myself that you may or may not have known about me. I also promised that I would write posts about each of these facts because they warrant further examining by you lovely people. Well, I would like to take some time to address fact number 11.

• I have three songs that I am convinced I can sing and would get me a record deal if the right people heard me sing them. I cannot sing any other songs. I would be a three hit wonder. (One of the songs is from Rent...so a 2-hit wonder)

 Basically, I am going to be the next American Idol...or extremely close.

(Just me and Simon, fighting off the haters.)

 So these three songs, when they are on, sing to my soul. It isn't because I can directly relate to them or because I feel like they are musical gems in the grand history of music. It is because every time I hear them, I sing with every fiber in my body and I feel as though I have hit every single note perfectly, sometimes better than the original artist. Is this a little crazy? Yes. Is it plausible that I can hit all of these notes and be the best singer that no one has ever heard? No. But in my head, I have a Grammy and a Tony. Soooo...Jokes on you. 

This is such a big deal for me guys. I have never told anyone my secret fact about the songs I am able to sing. You can't request them. I can only sing them when I feel moved...or when I am alone. Ok, here it goes. Judgement free zone, right? (I can feel you nodding your heads with your fingers crossed behind your backs. Scoundrels.) 

1. Will I? - Rent : Real talk, I am obsessed with this musical like most musical theatre nerds. (Why yes, that is the theatre snob way to spell THEATRE. Suck it). When I first saw this musical I was 13 and I fell in love with every single character. I don't think I fully understood how dark and depressing a majority of the musical is. (For those who don't know...it's about a group of young people in NYC dealing with the HIV/AIDs crisis of the 80s. SUPER uplifting for a confused gay teenager). Anywhoz, it wasn't until my junior year in high school that I had this magical gift to sing this song. It is the simplest song, lyrically, in the musical but had the most profound impact on me. I began putting it on all of my mix CD's (because that was a thing back then. PRE-ipods/playlists all you young whippersnappers) I would belt it as I drove down the road in my 1995 Nissan Altima with a rainbow bumper sticker plastered on the back. (I was big into "Statement" pieces). To this day, when the song comes on, I lose all focus on what else is going on and begin trying to match the pitch of the artists singing the song. 

(Holy ballz guys, when I found this video of Canada's "So You Think You Can Dance" team doing it...I just about lost my shit. I also just lost 20min of my life doing the arm movements at my table. I am a dancer in training) 

2. White Christmas - by Any Male Artist - This one should come as less of a surprise for you guys considering your vast knowledge of my intense love of Christmas. This was another high school discovery of mine (STOP THE PRESSES... Angst ridden teen finds himself in theatre and music.) Growing up my voice has always held itself slightly above what is considered "normal" for boys and men. (I am all for redefining "normal" but when I was 14....my voice was far from the "normal" octave) The only time that I found my voice actually sounded better normal was when I was in musical theatre. My teacher in 9th grade told me to sing in more of a tenor or baritone (i.e. fairly low)

Around Christmas time, again my junior year, I was joking around with my bffl and singing this song in the car. She freaked out (in a good way) because my voice hit an all time low. Well, I joke sang it at lunch the next day (because I wanted the same attention) and this kid, Mike, turned and was like "SHIIIIIT, I want you to sing at my wedding one day." I laughed it off and told him he was ridiculous...then ran home and wrote about it in my journal. (Facts: Mike got married earlier this year. I was not invited to sing at his wedding. Asshole)

  3. Back Here - BBMak - What? How can you not remember this wonderful British boy band? Yes, they may have been one-hit wonders. Yes, this song did come out almost 13yrs ago. Yes, I first heard this song on Now, Volume 5. (Ugh, that Now was so good! N*Sync, Backstreet Boys, Britney Spears, Aaron Carter, Jessica Simpson, Mandy Moore, Destiny's Child, and 98°. I think they peaked on Vol. 5) So, you may ask, why did I choose Back Here as the song I would hit every note and sound like an angel while singing, when I had so many other gems to choose from? Well, the answer is simple, I DIDN'T CHOOSE THE SONG! It chose me. It. Chose. Me. Sorry, I'm not sorry about this. 

I was working on my British accent at the time (because my phone was ringing off the hook with people wanting to hang out with me) and I just felt an extreme connection to the three lads singing this song. For the last 13 years, when I hear this song, I am immediately brought back to my childhood bedroom where I sat on the floor reading the lyrics off the pamphlet insert, memorizing every single word. I sing for that 11yr old boy. I sing to cure broken hearts. I sing to stop world wars. I succeed. 

Chorus: Until you're back here baby, Miss you, Want you, Need you so. 

I mean, I don't really know why they didn't get a Grammy. It's mind-boggling to me. 

So there it is, those are the three songs that define the early part of my life and are what will, one day, gain me fame and glory among the music community. Don't you worry your pretty little head, this guy is on his way. WATCH OUT  BIEBER! 

Fabulously Lost: The next Kelly Clarkson....or Rebecca Black 

Rent: A positive musical about AIDs

White Christmas: Magical in so many ways 

BBMak: Truly fabulously lost in the pile of one-hit wonders  

Random Tidbits

Ok, so these are all things that are going on in my life that I couldn't really flesh out into a full post. I still wanted to share them with you because they are the unfortunate happenings that lead me sit at home most nights, and eat 4 slices of pizza, and secretly wish they would bring back The Hills and Sabrina the Teenage Witch. (I lead an exhilarating life). Let's begin..

I have a boyfriend everyone.

JUST KIDDING!!!!! HAAHAHA!!! Jokes on...me? Ugh, what I mean to say is that I have a fake boyfriend at the gym who may, or may not, know that I exist. (Because I don't have enough trouble as it is finding a real one, I have to find a fake one and make him fake mine). See, I have this thing where I need to find something to motivate me to go to the gym, because obviously self-motivation to be healthy and lose weight is something that doesn't exist for me.

In college I had a couple of best friends who worked out with me and made it into a fun thing, and I like fun. After I graduated and moved home, the fun ceased and I was left with the constant urge to not go to the gym and do absolutely anything other than workout. Recently, though, I have found my own motivation with my secret fake boyfriend, who is at the gym every night by the time I get there and leaves 45min-60min after I get there. (I magically leave around the same time. Coincidence? I think...so.) I have told myself that I am a bad fake boyfriend if I don't go and see him.

(So I am a little crazy...but I've been to the gym every day this week, suck it.)

I may get arrested...

...if my odd day dream at work comes true. Recently I have been sitting in a lot of meetings and doing one-on-one training sessions with random people. During one of my sessions this past week I was sitting there and my nose began to feel weird...like really weird. I felt like there was the tiniest feather tickling the outside of my nose, taunting me to brush it away. I began to panic and think that I had a major snot poking out and that this person I was training would never take me seriously. (Being a young-20something in the work place isn't enough...I now have a snot rocket waiting to make sure I get the respect I obviously deserve.) So, I calmly decided to brush at my face in the most discrete way possible. 

(I'm like a fucking ballerina)

Here's the thing, it didn't go away with that one swat of the nose. It continued to be there, taunting me and telling me to swipe at it again. So, as I am talking, I go in again to take this tiny tickling nose feather out. And again. And again. After the 4th or 5th time of attacking my nose I started to think about what would happen if there really isn't a feather booger poking out of my nose. What would happen if I just look like I am playing with my nose? You know who also plays with their nose a lot, coke addicts. (Yup, I watched True Life: I'm A Drug Addict, I know what coke addicts do.) I put myself into an all out panic at that point. I decided that this girl probably thought I was a coke addict and after this session she was going to tell HR. I was positive there was going to be an intervention and/or the police were going to show up at my work. I imagined what the conversation would be like with my parents trying to explain to them that I really wasn't a drug addict, that I just had a frustratingly ticklish booger. (Of course I would deny it, all drug addicts do! DAMN YOU MTV KNOWLEDGE.)

(Just me an Urkel...hangin' in the slammer)

By the time I had planned my entire arrest and trial, I realized I was still talking and I didn't know what I was talking about anymore. Soooo, I literally just stopped talking and stared at this poor girl. (Obviously awkward pauses and shifty eyes now added to my nose swapping addict tendencies...ughh guys, I don't look good in orangeeee). She looked at me a little oddly and then said she really enjoyed everything I said. I really hope I didn't confess my inner fears out loud...

I got angry at my GPS

This seems like a totally normal thing, right? I was driving along and listening to my jamz (read also: Christmas music), when all of a sudden my GPS decided to interrupt and ask me if I had any commands for it. Holllld uuppppp. Excuse me, whaaaaaat? You see, I had to replace my phone on Sunday because apparently you aren't supposed to drop your iPhone in the toilet because it causes corrosion. (Who knew?) So I had to restart all of the programs and upgrade them and all of that jazz. Well, apparently, my GPS app had this update where it now periodically asks me if I need help and all I have to do is speak into the phone and it will oblige.  

What my iPhone didn't realize is that you really shouldn't interrupt my Christmas Jamz because I get irrationally annoyed. When the Barb (my name for my GPS, because thats normal) decided to block the music to ask me if I needed help. I decided the best way to handle her rudeness was to say something mean. 

Barb: Do you need any Assistance?

Me: Stop talking 

Barb: I'm sorry, can you repeat?

Me: Stop. Giving. Directions. Out. Loud. *(insert gay clap at each period)

Barb: Please repeat. Speak Slowly. 

Me: SHUT THE FUCK UP BARB. I HATE YOU. 

Barb: Commands turning off

(I WON)

I felt obscenely victorious for all of half of a second, and then I felt terrible. I felt like I was unnecessarily mean to  Barb, so I started to examine my response and I felt this terrible pit in the bottom of my stomach. I had just been  a terrible person and yelled at her while listening to the happiest music on the planet. (At no point did I think, "Hey, this is an inanimate object that has no feelings and doesn't care what you call it"...because it can't care...). I felt so bad that I ended up turning the commands back on and apologized to Barb in my mind. (Sometimes I don't realize how crazy I am until I write these posts about myself.)

I caused an accident with my good driving skillz

Literally...I was actually being a good driver, instead of the asshole speed demon I tend to be. This time of year always brings out the good within me (Except when it comes to my GPS, sorry Barb!), and I try really hard to make sure that shines through in all the areas of my life, including with my driving ways. Well, Monday morning, I was driving to work at a decent speed along Route 29, just bopping along to my music and drinking my delicious Pumpkin Spice Latte, when a Douchebag decided to ride up extremely close behind me. He was riding my tail like I was a hot piece of ass in a skimpy dress at the club on a Saturday night. (The answer is no, I don't feel good about what I just wrote...).

 I just kept going along at the designated speed limit (or 10mph over) when I saw the traffic light ahead turn red. As I started to slow down the Douchbag decided to zip around me to speed ahead. As he drove past me he raised his fist triumphantly with his middle finger waving back and forth. I turned and smiled and waved (because I am not above sharing friendly gestures) which angered him further. He turned back to the road to realize the red light was there jusssst a little too late. I stopped appropriately at the light as he slowed down and ended up in a fender bender with a Mercedes Benz SUV. 

(Not the car crash I saw this morning...but exactly what happened)

So my little Douchebag friend's speedy Volkswagen now sat with its hood curled up under the SUV. I turned over as I finally reached the light and looked at my now distraught sparring partner. As we all know, I have stopped wishing accidents on people, so I did feel bad for a moment. (Not as bad as when I yelled at Barb, she really didn't deserve that)

Wrap-Up

Alright, so my next post is a ridiculous story that involves Halloween, the Village People, the gay club, random make out sessions, and, as always, a run in with the law. Look out for it on Monday. 

Also...I am going to DC's annual High Heel Drag Race next Tuesday. I will be intoxicated and surrounded by Halloween Drag Queens...I hope to God I make it to work the next day. 

Fabulously Lost: Lady in the streets...

Barb: I can't apologize enough

Gym Boyf: See you tonight ;) 

True Life: One of the only constant pleasures in my life

My Sloth

Remember how I told you that I am that weirdo who obsessively watches random celebrity interviews? (Not ashamed.) Well one of my favorite celebrity interviewers is the constantly dancing, '90s sitcom legend, lesbian talk show host Ellen Degeneres. Now, Ellen has had many gems in her career as one of the most beloved talk show hosts of today, but none of them compare to her chit-chat with Kristen Bell. Bell is formerly known as the title character of Veronica Mars, currently as the narrator of Gossip Girl, and has always been a huge LGBT ally. (I swear to little baby Jesus I am about to make my point) Bell explained to Ellen that it had recently been her birthday and her fiance, Dax Shepard, surprised her by bringing her absolute favorite animal to their house for the party. Below is the clip. Watch it. Now.

She bugs the FUCK out over this little lazy creature. Like not even a little bit, a lot. She is sobbing and convulsing on her bed, all out of joy for the presence of this animal near her home. Welp, I realized within the last couple of months that my "sloth" is...is....Christmas.

(I just lost twenty minutes of my life looking up photos of Christmas)

I wish I could say that I am kidding about this, or that there are other things in my life that excite me more than a holiday, but I can't. I literally start tweaking when I even begin to think about Christmas. I found out that Christina Perri had released her Christmas album on Tuesday and, while listening to it, my heart grew 4x. So much so that I began to tear up. LIKE REAL TEARS. I was appalled with myself but I couldn't stop myself. (It was only like 3 tears...mmmkay?). 

You see, I started to realize that I was obsessed with Christmas at a very young age. This isn't a new thing; I am a life-long glittery Christmas lover.  I was always more excited about it than my brothers growing up and I was always more emotional about it too. (Easily attributed to the fact that I was easily excitable about...everything) I think that it really set in how obsessed I was after I found out that Santa Claus wasn't real.

I know this is comes as a complete surprise, but, I wasn't very popular when I was younger. (I KNOW! I am constantly confused by this too). Let's travel together back to a time when I was a mere 3rd grader in the mid-90s, to a time when I found a rag-tag group of kids who sat in the back of the bus. I thought that I had made it because they let me sit with them and not with the little kids in the front of the bus. Now, they let me sit with them because I was kinda like their punching bag. They could make fun of me and be mean but they also liked me to be just their punching bag, and because of that they stood up for me if anyone else was mean to me. (I found some gems. Realll gems)

(They were a meaner, less cute version of the Little Rascals. #besties)

Anywhoz, they used to tell me (read also: make fun of me) how innocent and how silly I was for doing all of my homework and wearing my cousins over-sized clothing from the late 80's-early '90s. (Interestingly enough, they are actually the reason I got into cursing, before them I was afraid to say anything beyond "darn", so I owe them something right?) Well, right around Christmas time I began getting extremely excited and overwhelmed with the impending season, so much so that I decided to bring up a conversation topic with my fellow back-of-the-bus rough and tumble group of "friends."

Me (imagine pip-squeak high voice): What is everyone asking Santa for Christmas?

One-Eye Tom (he actually had one eye): Wait, is he serious? He can't be serious.

Mini Rosie O'Donnell (Self-explanatory...unfortunate looking kid): Fabulous, you have to be kidding. How fucking dumb are you?

Me: What do you mean? If you don't tell him what you want, he won't know what to tell his elves to make you. I feel like that's PRETTY smart. 

One-Eye Tom: He still doesn't get it. What the hell?

Mini Rosie O'Donnell: Fabulous, you're writing a letter to no one. Santa Claus isn't real. I can't believe you still believe in him

Me: I...I... I don't. I was just kidding. I mean, who believes in Santa. 

Facts: I DID. I EFFIN' BELIEVED IN SANTA CLAUS. 

When I got off the bus, I marched into my house and asked to speak very frankly with my mother. (Sometimes I wonder how this all looks to a parent...like, a tiny munchkin kid with a high pitched voice claims to have something serious to talk about. What the hell is serious about that?)

Me: Mom, I want you to tell me the truth.

Mama Fabulous: Tell you the truth about what sweetie?

Me: On the bus, Mini Rosie O'Donnell told me that Santa isn't real. Is that true?

Mama Fabulous: Do you really want to know the truth?

Me *paused for a moment*: Yes, yes I do

Mama Fabulous: No, Santa Claus isn't real. I am so sorry.

Me *almost in hysterics*: WHAT ABOUT THE EASTER BUNNY??

Mama Fabulous: The Easter Bunny isn't real as well.

Me *tears streaming*": AND THE TOOTH FAIRY?

Mama Fabulous: None of them are real.

Me: YOU LIED TO MEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

I have a flair for the dramatics. Also, did I really think either one of those follow-up questions were going to end well for me? I mean, did I really believe a giant bunny broke into my house each year and just pooped chocolate eggs? How about the small fairy who would poof into my house and steal my teeth? Both sound like things that I have seen on CSI: Miami. Just sayin'. 

 This poor woman had to listen to me as I called her a liar and sobbed, and sobbed, and sobbed like I just found out that they were giving me up for adoption. (I may have overreacted a little bit...)

(this might have been easier to digest)

You'd think that after all of this I would be jaded when it came to the holiday. Well, then you would have thought wrong. I have consistently gotten more obsessed with the holiday, to the point that I now begin to tear up when I start thinking about my whole family gathered around the Christmas tree,  excitedly giving each other gifts and talking about spending the whole day together. (Literally just made myself tear up typing that...I have an issue.)

1998: I stayed up through all of Christmas Eve because I had wound myself up so much so that I couldn't fathom sleeping. I ended up passing out moments after we finished opening presents the next morning

2000: I asked my parents if we could go to all three of the Christmas Eve services at church...because each is different from the last. 

2002: I decorated the inside of my locker with wrapping paper and garland. It was the first time I had used my locker in high school. I was also still "straight" then. 

2004: I came out 5 days after Christmas...and I actually thought about how neat it would be to share an anniversary with Christmas 

2006: I had just started working at Godiva and they let me decorate the display in the mall by the Santa picture area. I spent 2 weeks on it and went to check on it. Every.Single.Day. 

2008: It was the first time I had a boyfriend at Christmas. Our official anniversary was three weeks prior...our first official date ended at a Christmas party. I was in heaven. 

2010: I forced my co-workers to endure Christmas music and I bought decorations for everyone's desks. 

2012: I...I just can't. Too much excitement 

Christmas: The best time of the year

One-Eye Tom and Mini Rosie O'Donnell: Probz working in gas stations. (they weren't the brightest bulbs on the tree)

Mama Fabulous: A saint for dealing with my antics.

Fabulously Lost: Instead of the Crazy Cat Lady....I'm the Crazy Christmas Gay. #owningit

You Know How I Know You're Gay...

I want to take a moment and take you back into my life to a time when I was straight. (AHAHAHA...yup there was a time when I told people I liked ze ladies). I was quite the ladies man and I've actually probably had more girlfriends then boyfriends....(I told you I should have chosen to be straight!). I thought I had quite the racket going on and that people were convinced of my heterosexuality. Annnd then I came out. When I came out I had a slew of different reactions from positive to negative, mostly positive and mostly people telling me they knew before I did. (Side note: Never tell a gay person that you knew before they did...you didn't and its obnoxious.) Below is a compilation of some of my favorite reactions over the years.

Now I am newly in love with being gay and thinking its the best thing since sliced bread. I originally wanted to be one of those "hetero-masculine" acting gays who only had straight friends. (FYI...in case you haven't gathered..I have never been "hetero-masculine" acting...rainbows always shoot out of my mouth when I speak) So back when I came out I wanted to do it very strategically. I was 16 years old and this was obviously an all encompassing task and I planned everything out to a "t." I came out to my parents first which was a hoot...but I will get to that later. I then decided to come out to one of my best girl friends at the time, thinking that she was going to be the easiest to tell. 

First I told my friend Bee (we had weird nicknames for each other that still don't make sense to me...I was Boo...don't ask). I was so nervous and I wanted to take her aside after our World History class junior year. We wrote notes back and forth to discuss when we were going to talk. 

Me: Hey...so I have something really big to talk to you about

Bee: What is it? Tell me

Me: I think it should be said out loud. Are you free after class

Bee: No...we have another class after this. idiot

Me: Rude, Ill tell you at lunch I guess

Bee: No, tell me now. I want to know

Me: Ok....I'm gay...

 (remember thats all on a piece of paper...I just came out to a friend on a piece of paper...)

Bee: *speaking loudly now*: OMG THIS IS GREAT! WE HAVE TO GO SHOPPING!

Yup, the first thing that any friend said to me about my being gay was that we had to go shopping. Somehow a lot of people, not just Bee, think that now that I was willing to admit to my homosexuality, I was magically the best person to go shopping with. They stopped caring about dressing and undressing in front me and they always asked my opinion about clothing, because a gay mans opinion is next to God when it comes to clothing. 

I then told my other best girl friend, Girl-Next-Door (GND), since she was like a big sister to me. I had been kinda concerned about how she was going to take it since she loved her some Jesus. I want you to think for a moment where the best place it would be to tell GND. Think about it lonnnggg and hard. (that's what he said...hehe). Then erase that place because I am positive you couldn't guess where I actually told her. 

I told GND that I was gay next to the dumpsters in our h.s. Not only was it by the dumpsters, but it was after lunch so they were filled with crap. I decided to tell her next to GARBAGE. This sends a positive message about being gay I am sure. To her credit, she hugged me and said "cool." (I think I wanted streamers and confetti to pop out over us...but beggars can't be choosers...)

I told a couple of other core people in my life and then I told this one girl who I knew would tell everyone. I told her during homeroom and by fourth period I had people coming up and congratulating me. My friend New York (she later went to NYU and I visited her all the time), who had sociology with me 6th period, walked up to me with a little side-eye action going on and goaded me for information. 

NY: Someone had a big day didn't he...didn't ya kiddo! 

Me: Uhh whattt? I...uhh..hahah...uhh. No it's just thursday

NY: Come on, come on now. I hear things, I know things. It was a big ol' day for ya!

Me: Well I mean...I guess. Yeah its kinda a big day. *sheepish grin*

NY: I know, I know. Good for you. Goood forrr you. I'm proud of ya.

I swear to little baby jesus she talked to me like a big gay dog and I responded like a big gay dog. I was waiting for her to pat me on the head and give me a treat. We still have interactions like this...I  am in serious need of help...

(I would totally wear this is if I were a dog...)

There were two girls that I was friends with at the time, that I heard from other people, were waiting for  me to tell them personally. They were actually insulted I hadn't come to them directly to tell them about this big news. As I was walking towards the parking lot they stopped me like two teenage girls meeting Justin Bieber (the real one, not the black Bieber)

Excitable Girl 1: So do you have something to tell us?

Excitable Girl 2: Yeah, something important?

Me: Not really...do you have something for me?

Excitable Girl 1: No, obviously not. Didn't something big happen today?

Excitable Girl 2: Yeah, like really big?

Me: Umm, nope. I got an A on my sociology project...but it wasn't like solving the worlds issues...

Excitable Girl 1: This is ridiculous...JUST SAY IT OUT LOUD! 

Excitable Girl 2: YEAH OUT LOUD

Me: Whoa...I...I...I'm....

Excitable Girl 1: Omg just say it, we know! We knew before you did

Excitable Girl 2: Yeah way before, like freshman year

Me: Interesting. I mean if I knew what you are talking about I'd say thats preposterous. Also I dated you Excitable Girl 2. But I guess if I must say it to prove to you, I am gay

Excitable Girl 1: OMG THIS IS AMAZINGGGG I ALWAYS WANTED A GAY BEST FRIEND!!!

Excitable Girl 2:  Yeah me too! 

I never really hung out with either girl after that. I gained a lot of girl friends right after I came out because, at the time, Will & Grace was huge and everyone wanted to find their Will. I fell for it, but after a bit most people fell off the grid and I realized I was fully capable of being more then a gay best friend. 

My parents probably have had the best reaction any parents could have had. We hugged, we cried, we told each other that we loved each other. It was beautiful. They also told me they had no idea that I was gay. This. Was. A. Lie. Over the last 7.5 years since I came out they randomly come at me with different ways they knew I was gay. 

Mother: You know, the first time I thought you might be gay was when you were 4.

Me: Thats poppycock! I didn't even know I was gay then. You are a ridiculous woman. 

(That's actually how I talk to her. I am an extremely stereotypical gay man when it comes to mi madre, we are besties. ughhh so gay)

Mother: It was right around Christmas, which has always been your favorite. 

Me: I mean lots of children love Christmas. So what if I still obsess about it. Get on with your point you cray cray lady.

Mother: You wrote a letter to Santa that read a little like this. 

Dear Santa, 

I have been a really good boy this year and I wanted to thank you for all the things you gave me last year. If I could have a few of the things off my list I would like that, thank you. 

1. A teddy bear

2. GI Joes

3. Batman toys

4. Captain Planet toys 

5. other crap (there were others on the list. I didnt say crap at 4)

Love, 

Fabulously Lost

P.S. can I have FLOWERS for my room

Me: Wait...I asked for flowers for my room at 4 years old.

Mother: Yes, that was my first inkling you might be gay

Me: Touche Mother, touche...you've won this round

That is a pretty flamming thing to do, right? I mean how many of you asked for flowers for your room? What this proves to me is that even at 4 I knew what looked good it my room. I was a fabulous 4 year old. Ahhh to be young again. 

My father and my brothers often like to bring up the big give away to them that I was gay. I was in middle school, it was the late '90s and I made some major mistakes as a kid. What I am going to admit to you now is something I have tried to keep quiet for a long time. I have hushed my family from discussing it in public and I try with every fiber in my body to erase the memory of this from my head, but here it goes. 

In 1998 I got my first CD for my birthday. It was the Britney Spears critically acclaimed debut CD, Hit Me Baby One More Time. Now this, in itself, is a fairly gay thing to have as your first CD because, even then, Brit Brit was a bit of an icon for ze gays. (Did you see what I did there, I gave her a nickname like we are old friends....ahh to be friends with Britto!...I know I am seeking help) This wasn't the gayest thing I have ever done though. I became obsessed with this CD and with Brit, I listened to it all the time and made my parents play it in the car. I knew every single word on the CD and sang like I had a multi-album deal with Jive Records. (yes I know the recording company she was signed with back in the day. Shut up..)

Again, while gay, thats not the gayest thing I ever did. Somewhere around the middle of my 6th grade year I decided that I needed to take my love of Britney to the next level. I needed to display my feelings for Britney in my room for all to see (because I was having so many sleepovers back then...HA...). I began getting magazines like J-14 and Teen Bop and started cutting out pictures of Britney. Once I finally had enough photos I took thumbtacks and put them above my bed. I built a shrine to Britney for me to sleep under every  night. 

(this isnt my wall...but its eerily close to what I had)

I had this up for most of my middle school career before I got to h.s. and realized how homosexual it was and took it down. I wanted people to see my room and not think that I was gay (because I was having so many sleepovers...HA...#noguyfriends2000) There is a photo that exists somewhere of this and I hope it stays buried with all of my other broken dreams. 

Looking back on it, its almost appalling to think about how gay I was as a child. I did many things that were fairly flaming for a child. 

1. I had an imaginary friend named Penny.(Yes I did resort to imaginary friends, and I was quite popular in the imaginary world.) She was Inspector Gadget's sidekick. I was fake friends with his SIDEKICK but not him. Why? Because she was pretty and a girl

2. I was always Princess Peach when I played just about any video game (Super Mario Cart was the shizznat) with my brothers. I would pretend like she was the only logical choice for what I was trying to accomplish.

3. I enjoyed going over to my cousins house and playing with her Barbies because I didn't have any at my house. She now goes to Indiana and probably doesn't remember playing Barbies with me, but I pretended like I was just being a good older cousin...I just liked playing with their hair

4. I used to brush my babysitters hair. Other kids played with toys and video games when their babysitter was over...I brushed her hair. 

5. I HAD A MOTHER EFFIN' BRITNEY SPEARS WALL...nuff said

Needless to say, there were many things that contribute to me being the fabulous rainbow loving man I am today. I will periodically share with you some of my more embarrassing tails of being a homosexual child...for now I think I have scarred you enough. 

Fabulously Lost: Gay since birth

Singledom: Not such a secret 

Britney Spears: Still obsessed...just no shrine