So all these It Gets Better campaign postings has me thinking on my way to work today...
I wasn't lucky enough to grow up in a progressive liberal city. The majority of my secondary education was at public high schools in a bible belt sort of high school where the kids are not so Jesus like. So I was reclusive from the majority of mass culture, I kept myself in the kitchen. I watched sexy foreign movies alone. I flip through fashion magazines. I picked up this absurd taste for music. All these things that made me weird in High School. Lucky me?
Then college came...
The first boy I met, on a campus tour... He was Thai, handsome, with a immaturely developed taste for Etta James and the Blues. After 3 years of skimming the net for the best versions of STOP THE WEDDING, man, did I have it. Of course, he turned out to be my first.
...
Then the summer that followed, I met my first bf. A tall handsome Vietnamese writer/student with the same name as the first part of mine. A few days into our fling, I proposed the idea that we should rent a small student housing rental on top of the fabric outlet by the Chinese Binh Tay Market. Of course, being about a decade older, knew instantaneous of the reference to L'Amant (The Lover 1992). I think I fell in love for the first time that summer.
...
A series of guys later, I met the first law student that I dated from Ohio. A guy with a small kitchenette in his studio about 2 miles from school. After a late night of bouncing, I was hungry and the only thing that was opened was the Schnucks (St. Louis's QFC). So we went there and picked up some chicken, bacon, and the medleys... which i turned into Coq Au Vin. Though I knew it was impressive, I just did not realize how much until that point.
...
Well, I am not trying to say that my sprinkling of romance is a sigh of progress to match the theme of getting better. I just want to say that teenage seclusion sure made me quite Lucky. ;)
Joking aside, it really does progressively (though slowly) get so much fucking better. From the awkward boy thing I once was to the confidant mannish boy that I am now, the difficulties of growing up a bit quirky and different was a process of ... fabulousness (I love "gay" words).
I wasn't lucky enough to grow up in a progressive liberal city. The majority of my secondary education was at public high schools in a bible belt sort of high school where the kids are not so Jesus like. So I was reclusive from the majority of mass culture, I kept myself in the kitchen. I watched sexy foreign movies alone. I flip through fashion magazines. I picked up this absurd taste for music. All these things that made me weird in High School. Lucky me?
Then college came...
The first boy I met, on a campus tour... He was Thai, handsome, with a immaturely developed taste for Etta James and the Blues. After 3 years of skimming the net for the best versions of STOP THE WEDDING, man, did I have it. Of course, he turned out to be my first.
...
Then the summer that followed, I met my first bf. A tall handsome Vietnamese writer/student with the same name as the first part of mine. A few days into our fling, I proposed the idea that we should rent a small student housing rental on top of the fabric outlet by the Chinese Binh Tay Market. Of course, being about a decade older, knew instantaneous of the reference to L'Amant (The Lover 1992). I think I fell in love for the first time that summer.
...
A series of guys later, I met the first law student that I dated from Ohio. A guy with a small kitchenette in his studio about 2 miles from school. After a late night of bouncing, I was hungry and the only thing that was opened was the Schnucks (St. Louis's QFC). So we went there and picked up some chicken, bacon, and the medleys... which i turned into Coq Au Vin. Though I knew it was impressive, I just did not realize how much until that point.
...
Well, I am not trying to say that my sprinkling of romance is a sigh of progress to match the theme of getting better. I just want to say that teenage seclusion sure made me quite Lucky. ;)
Joking aside, it really does progressively (though slowly) get so much fucking better. From the awkward boy thing I once was to the confidant mannish boy that I am now, the difficulties of growing up a bit quirky and different was a process of ... fabulousness (I love "gay" words).
To all the boys (young boys in my family especially... who's mommy is telling them that she will jump off the roof) out there...You have no idea how much it gets better. Just hang in there. And when you can look back and say Lucky me, It got better. We can toast gay bubbly champagne to that!
