What the Red means to me

Today is a very important day for marriage equality, and I find it interesting that the HRC has decided to take their ever-so-popular logo and color it red.

In the context of the events of gay history going back the last 40 years or so, the color red seems to speak to me and make a lot of sense, as it connotes quite a few distinct, yet related ideas simultaneously.

First, red is the color of love. Yes, we are fighting for equal access and recognition under the law but underneath all of that, we are fighting so hard because we love our boyfriends, girlfriends, husbands, wives and want to provide for them and make sure that the life that we build together doesn’t come crashing down should one of us prematurely shuffle off this mortal coil.

Second, red is the color of passion and fire. We have come SO far in our struggle largely because of our resolve to never say die. Has the movement suffered setbacks? Of course! (Prop 8, anyone?) But we take the hit and we come back stronger and THAT is why we will ultimately win.

And last but definitely not least, red is the color of blood. I don’t just mean blood in the sense of family, that everyone has a son, daughter, brother, sister, uncle, aunt or cousin who’s gay. I also refer to the blood of our brothers and sisters that has been spilled over the last 40 years.

The Stonewall Riots.

Harvey Milk.

The White Night Riots.

Venus Xtravaganza.

Brandon Teena.

Rita Hester.

Matthew Shepard.

Gwen Araujo.

Angie Zapata.

August Provost.

As we go forward, let us keep the memories of these brave men and women alive (as well as the countless others whose tragic deaths DIDN’T make front-page news). I am unable to be at today’s rally, but I stand in firm solidarity with my gay and allied brothers and sisters.

March on, comrades. March on.

A Simple Act of Kindness: Not So Simple Anymore?

This past Saturday night was my best friend’s 25th birthday. Good times were had by all, but strangely enough the most memorable part of the night was AFTER we had all started heading for home.

I get dropped off at Bethesda Metro station and proceed to wait for the train to come. At some point, a guy who looked about my age and the two women he was with came and sat down beside me. About 5 minutes later, two women (whom, on my personal 5-point scale of drunkenness, were somewhere between “nice” and “drunk”) approach the bench and ask if they can sit down. Mind you, there isn’t much room left on this bench, so I just got up and let the two of them sit.

By everyone’s reaction, you would have thought I just rescued a baby from a well.

Now, I’m sure that part of this groups exaggerated show of gratitude was alcohol-fueled, but another part of me wonders, have we degraded so far as a society with regard to how we treat one another that a simple act of chivalry is now lauded as a grand altruistic gesture?

I’ve never really been one to subscribe to the “we’re all going to Hell in a handbasket” pseudo-cynicism adopted by my age cohorts, but moments like the one I had on Saturday night make me wonder if there’s some truth to the idea.

Are You The Man Of My Dreams?

Last night I had a dream about this guy I lived with three years ago in Baltimore. Tall, thin, blonde hair, cute face, and GORGEOUS eyes. When we first met in the summer of 2008, I instantly had a crush on him. He was beautiful AND intellectual. He just wasn’t single. The next 3 months with him, his boyfriend, and myself could have been lifted straight out of a soap opera, and I remember secretly hoping for their already rocky relationship to fail so that I could have my chance at (who I thought was) the man of my dreams.

That began to change as I got to know the boyfriend. And once we all moved in together, my romantic feelings had completely subsided. I haven’t seen him since he moved out the following summer, and with the exception of a few messages on Facebook, we really haven’t kept in contact.

And then he appears in a dream last night and tantalizes me with an orgasm-inducing kiss…

What could that possibly mean? Does it really matter at this point? I’m with someone now and I’m happy. Granted, we aren’t physically close right now, with him in Moscow and me in DC. Maybe that has something to do with it?

For now, I’m going to chalk it up as an isolated incident, but if any other crushes, fantasies, or (God forbid) ex-boyfriends come out of the woodwork while I’m catching Z’s, I may need to explore this a bit further.

A Change Is Gonna Come

I just got back home from a weekend in Williamsburg with my family, and the time away enabled me to do A LOT of thinking. So far, the first half of this semester has been pretty dismal. I’m just coming out of a pretty bad depression, and I, unfortunately, let that and some serious family drama interfere with my studies (something I PROMISED I wouldn’t do this time around). But, the semester isn’t over yet and there is still time to turn things around.

On another note, October 29th is rapidly approaching. What is Oct. 29, you ask? That is the day I set as my start date for my new wellness regimen. It’s kind of a way of combining my new natural hair journey (10/5/12 was my “big chop”) with my new fitness/weight loss journey. I figure, if I can be this vigilant about what goes on my head, then I can definitely take that approach to what goes into my body.  I will definitely be documenting my journey, in pics and MAYBE in video…

Which brings me to…why in the hell have I not done a YouTube video in almost a year? Basically, had nothing I really wanted to talk about. Will I start doing videos again? I’ve been thinking about it. Sometimes it’s just easier to write my stuff out, especially at times like this when it’s 5:30 in the morning and I’m sitting here in my PJ’s. But we’ll see.

And with that said, I am going to get a little bit of sleep so I can at least TRY to function in the morning. So until next time, fam!