To Won Foo, Thanks For Everything!

So it's been a little while since my last post, and again I could sit here and make an apology or whatever, but to be honest, there is probably only 25 people who read this thing TOTAL, so... no I do not feel bad. I must write when inspired.

Today's Topic is the Wonderful World of Drag!

I've always been interested in the culture of Drag Queens. I mean who didn't as a gay child try on/want to try on their mother's bra or play in her makeup growing up, and if you say you didn't, you're a goddamn liar.

Personally, i've always believed makeup up to be an art form. I remember watching my mother put her makeup on when I was a child. It almost seemed like a religious practice, like Tai Chi or something. Moving meditation. The swirls of the brush, the stroke of the eyeliner, all this carefully calculated movement to transform yourself. Everybody feels better in makeup, and even the gay men in my life are known to have a secret concealer stick or some eyeliner in their Medicine Cabinet.  Makeup has always been something i've been a very big fan of, and unfortunately, i've never been very good at it. I am sure if I went to classes and spent some money, I COULD be, but I am most definitely one of those people that unless I instantly pick up something or get a knack fairly quickly, I become VERY discouraged or uninterested. But that's just me. But that being said, i've always been a fan.

I have also ALWAYS loved Drag Queen, even at a young age, when the concept was completely mind boggling and out of my frame of reference at the time. I remember as a boy watching RuPaul's talk show on VH1 at night. I remember that everybody said he was a man in real life, but when I looked at him, all I saw was a woman. Actually, all I saw was a character, like some mythological creature, that was tall and beautiful, gawdy and spectacular and I remember being in awe.

It was about this time that I would lock myself in the bathroom and rifle through my mother's makeup bag, painting myself, trying the foundation, the makeup, the eyeliner, trying to make myself look, well...I didn't really know, I just wanted to see what I looked like with it on. That really was the extent of my gender exploration.

There was a time in my life where I really considered the option that I had been born in the wrong gender. My entire childhood I had always preferred the girls toys, shows, accessories, etc. to that of any boy's. I chalked most of that up to my upbringing, unfortunately, though many tried, there was never a truly strong MALE figure in my life. I was raised and surrounded by only women; My Mother, My Grandmother, My Mother's Best Friend and her three daughters, my female cousin and my little sister. It was a women's world and for a long time that really confused me. Thankfully, after a long soul searching, I realized that the way I thought and what I knew of my world was because of my environment, and that is really something I am thankful for because I get to be a Man in this world and yet still understand what women are going through, which makes my relationship with women VERY strong.

So now that my Lifetime Moment is out of the way, let's flash forward 15 years or so in the future and visit the well adjusted sassy and fun Brandon, shall we?

In the town I live in, Drag seems to really be a dying artform. The people who were doing it have been doing it for years and almost hermitized themselves from the Gay Community altogether. It's sad, because I know there is youth out there that could really USE something from Drag, that could really find a home, or find themselves in it. THANKFULLY, I feel our community, despite recent events, is rebuilding it's drag army.

This is in large part, thanks to a local Drag Queen named Mini Merna. Mini is a go getter, she performs all over town, hosts local events, does fundraising and is one of the biggest faces in Drag in Chico, and we love her for it. Mini is tacky, fun, and always puts on a show!

There is also another Queen, Veronica Lakeside who has really been stepping up her game and has started HEADLINING Shows around town.

So, there is momentum building, and it's people like them, who have the courage to be who THEY are that CHALLENGE us to be who WE are.

After getting closer to Mini Merna/Jeremi and watching a few shows around town, I couldn't help but get the Drag Itch. I've seen some pretty tragic people get up on stage, and bless their hearts, they gave it an honest effort, but it wasn't what I was seeing on TV or in other cities, and change only happens slowly. It wasn't until a friend of mine who is now the delicious Amanda Reckonwith started doing drag that I thought, MAYBE just maybe I would do it, and so impulsively after receiving an invite to a Drag Event on Facebook, I hastily said I would come in Drag and perform.

I was not prepared for the whirlwind the next few days would be. I was not a drag queen. I had no wig, no clothes, no makeup, no name, no CLUE! But I dove in head first and tried to make the best of it.

I entered the Dragulator (AKA Mini Merna's Closet) and through an EXTREME amount of help from her as well as some well timed shopping, luck and purchases on my part, I was able to release the Queen inside of me, but let me tell ya honey, it is WORK.

I decided on the name Bessie Mae Mucho. Mostly because I thought it was hilarious. I wanted to pattern my drag character as a cross between Suzanne Sugarbaker from Designing Women, Blance Deveraux from Golden Girls, and Maxine, that old lady from all the greeting cards in the 90's, and basically I came out with an Ex Pageant Queen with a Southern Accent, an Affinity for Jesus, and a sharp tongue.

The hours leading up to the show I was a HOT MESS. I had decided to get ready at a friend's house, left my makeup at home, left the belt I wanted at home, frantically drove across town to get said items, failed MISERABLY at my makeup, and almost had a nervous breakdown. The hardest part about drag HAS to be the makeup. Believe me, I watched at least 30 drag makeup tutorials on youtube, and for whatever reason, it did not translate from the video to my face. At the last minute, my friend mentioned that we had a makeup artist living next door, and 10 minutes later, I was in a dress, my titties out having this girl do my makeup. An hour later, my best friend Jon was holding my boobs and DUCT taping around them to make my cleave, and 20 minutes after that, my new best friend and makeup artist put the final touches on my face and gave me a Tiara to wear that was FAR better than the one I had originally decided to wear. Bessie Mae Mucho was ALIVE and READY.. for the most part...

I was insanely nervous on the drive TO the bar but when we got there, thanks to all my community theater experience I was able to transcend that and BE Bessie Mae Mucho. I handed Veronica Lakeside my CD and put my name on the roster, I had nothing left to do...but WAIT.

An hour or so later I heard Veronica Lakeside call "Bessie Mae MACHO!" .... *fail* and I got up on that stage. The performance was a blur. I lip synched "Fancy" by Reba McEntire. I was completely in character. I shook my boobies, I lifted my skirt up and I delivered FIERCENESS and HILARITY. I made 20 bucks from my performance and the crowd seemed to love it. Mini Merna came up to me and said "You know how they say when you got it, you got it? Well YOU have got it!" And I felt really good.

I didn't want to go up on stage and be a man in a dress because I felt that would be disrespectful to the ARTISTS that do this for a living, I wanted to BE something, I wanted to reach that level, and I think..I think I did.

My partner was proud of me but remotely reserved and nervous about it, because I know I will definitely at some point, do this again. He is a person of the addage "I want to date a MAN, not a WOMAN." and to him and to others out there like it, I will say THIS:

I don't think there is anything sexier or manlier than somebody able to get up in front of God and everybody and walk in their truth. I am a Man SO comfortable with myself and my sexuality, that I got up in PUBLIC, in a DRESS, with my boobs coated in SO much Duct Tape I have MARKS still from it, in a WIG, in FULL Makeup, and I performed. My manliness, and my sense of manhood is not TIED into what I wear, or how I look, but how I feel. I say what I mean and I mean what I say, and to me, THAT is a man, and when I took that dress off, when I took all those accessories of me, I was still the same person inside, I was still a man, I just got to explore a side that many MEN themselves are afraid to explore, and I had FUN with it. I respected the CRAFT that it is, and I think I am a better person and MAN for having experienced it... So pretty much, kiss my balls on that one if anyone wants to view me as girly, or womanlike. Get the fuck over it. Life is a Drag, and sometimes it's a Drag QUEEN.

Peace. Love. Dorothy.

Hey Sistah, Soul Sistah

Okay, so February has been a lot slower with posts than January, and mostly it's been because I am just incredibly frickin' busy. I've been working a lot, i've done some traveling, etc. and haven't had a whole lot of time to just sit and write, but today. That changes.

So...today's topic. Have you ever thought you identify with a culture that you aren't necessarily a part of? I know for me personally, I am about as WHITE as they come. My family is English with a little bit of French thrown in there...not enough to have people hate me instantly, but enough to keep people guessing. I don't really consider my family to have a whole lot of... "culture" persay. We didn't have any big cultural customs growing up, we didn't really go to church, I was just Whitey McWhiterson, Party of One.

Yeah, I'm eating Wonder Bread. What Of It?

There is however, a group of people that I find myself completely enthralled with, those of Black Women. I say black women because I find the term African American to be Moronic. If somebody is black and they were born in the United Kingdom, what the hell are we supposed to call them? African English? No. That's stupid. African American is a term white people made up to make ammends for that terrible "N" word they were using when they shouldn't have been. So to me, I don't find it offensive to just say a person is Black. To me, it's no different than somebody calling me White. It doesn't offend me, and I don't think it offends many black people, either. Now back on to the topic.

I have always been 100% sure that in many past lives that I was a Black Woman, or at the very least, my spirit is very much a black woman, and some people think that I am absolutely ape shit crazy or UBER gay (oh man do people still USE the term Uber?) to say that, and to them I say fuck you, so I thought I would write a little blog and delve in deeper as to the reasons that I am completely in love with chocolate hued ladies.

Ebony...Ivory..Living in Perfect Harmony.

1. There is just something dramatic and beautiful about a Black Woman. From a young age i've found black women extremely attractive and quite honestly I think it's because when you see them, what you don't know is that their entire look is a damn production. They take the time to make sure that hair is RIGHT, the nails are FIERCE and the outfit is outrageous. They are some of the most "fabulous" women I have ever seen. There is a pride in appearance, and almost a NECESSITY in the community. I just know if somebody is spending five hours in the salon chair, two at the manicurist and an hour and a half in their bedroom choosing an outfit, i'm going to be wearing a belt and a nice button up for that bitch, ya know what I mean? Also, unfortunately black women, this will make crazy drunk white girls treat you like a pony in the club (Can I touch your hair? Where did you get that dress? You are SOOOOOO true, Girlfriend) and that drives you nuts and I will never NEVER do that to you, I swear. Okay maybe once.

Oh, Justin Beiber, you ignant fool.

2. What really makes black women shine to me is the attitude. Anybody can look pretty (well, mostly anybody) but when they open their mouth, it all falls flat. I know there is a stereotype people have about black women being LOUD and full of attitude and a lot of people put a negative connotation on that. Not me...you know why? Because I myself am LOUD and full of attitude. People call it ghetto and I say shut the hell up and get yo' LIFE! .Com

You are SO Lucky I found the Lord!

There is a PERSONALITY there. If you piss a black woman off, she is MORE than going to let you know, she is going to call her sisters and THEY will let you know TOO. We are too used to these quiet blonde girls just giggling, or this Emily Post idea of propriety and you know while I think there is a LITTLE something to say about that, I have to admire somebody who has an opinion and who isn't afraid to say that opinion WHEREVER they are. You easily intimidate people, you gorgeous women and I LOVE that. And PERSONALLY? I happen to think that most black women I know are MORE articulate and well spoken than a lot of my white girl friends. When a black women speaks you listen, even if she is reciting the alphabet. There is a strength in that voice, there is a clarity, a vibrato, a BOOM that makes people listen. I'm reminded of this:

3. There is an energy about black women that you don't find in other subsets. While at a gay club in Sacramento a few weeks ago, I stumbled onto what I found out was... The Hip Hop Room. (I thought segregation was over, but I digress). Have you ever been somewhere new and instantly felt at home? Because that was me. 30 minutes into the Hip Hop Room I was surrounded by black ladies somewhat making fun of my dance moves, slapping me on the ass and laughing. FULLY enjoying themselves. They know how to have fun. I don't know, all I am saying is when I hang out with a group of my white girlfriends it mostly becomes about how they can't believe their Ex is texting them, 800 trips to the bathroom, touching up makeup, sloppy mess drunk, and about five total minutes of dancing because their shoes hurt. Also girls, PLEASE don't take your damn heels off in the club...TACKY! I find the spirit of a black woman to be beautiful, and I know that whenever I hang out with a Sistah of mine, I am GARAUNTEED to have a good time. They truly live IN the moment, they are the women rappers write songs about (getting off work, paying they own bills, dancing in the club, don't need no man) They live that 24/7 and it is definitely admirable.

Now... Don't get it twisted. I know some of you might read this and think I am actually being quite racist, or that I don't enjoy white women, and that's all bullshit because I do. I think too much in our society we get bogged down with this political correctness, this need to keep everybody happy and it just works. There are a few black women I know who are BORING AS HELL. There are a few white girls I know who are SUPASTARS on the dance floor, always jovial and fun, but my HEART has always gravitated to Black Women. When I see a Black Woman carry herself so well, mindy, body, attitude, I want to get to know her. I want to be her friend, I want to do something horribly stereotypical with her, like braid her hair, or call Tyrone, but that's just me. They are a group of people that I see a lot of myself in with the way they carry themselves, their thoughts, their attitudes and their words, and this love affair is not going to go away ANYTIME soon.

Normally I end with a Peace.Love.Dorothy... but today I think you know what's coming...

Peace.Love & Soul. Soul Food.

Hate is a Four Letter Word

You know, I've noticed the tone of my blog the last few posts has gotten a little bit more serious, and today is no exception. I guess with all the time I spend talking about myself on here, it might be time to talk about somebody else, and an issue far more serious.


The Gay Community where I live is very small... So small that we have in fact that we all know each other...so small that we all know about each others bowel movements. Seriously. It's a small community, but for the most part, it's a great community. There is a bigger sense of family then in communities I've lived in the past. We may fight, we may make bitchy "Real Housewives" like comments to each other, but at the end of the day, most of us realize that we are "family" no matter how dysfunctional.

For those of you who don't know, the town I live in is Chico, California. It's a town about an hour and fifteen minutes outside of Sacramento, and has quite the reputation. Chico is home to California State University, Chico, and was once listed as one of the top party schools in the country by Playboy Magazine, a mantle that some citizens have worn with pride for the last 25 years, and others have tried desperately to change. That being said, if you read my last blog, you know that there IS an incredible amount of drinking and partying that goes on in this town due to the extremely young and agile student population every year. You would think Chico, CA to be an extremely liberal town, and for the most part it is, but when you mix alcohol, naivety and that good old youthful James Dean "Rebel Without a Cause" attitude, you get problems.


There is no official gay bar in Chico. Every bar that has been officially designated as "Gay" in Chico has failed miserably, but there are certain bars in town that understand, realize and accept that fact that Gay people in this town want to get their party on too, they want to meet and get to know other gay people in the community, and they will go just to about any bar that will cater to them. Panama's in Chico is one of the more popular destination and has adopted an "unofficial" gay night every Wednesday that has surged in popularity over the last few years. It's necessarily advertised or marketed to gay people, but every gay person in town knows that if you wanted to meet gay people outside of something like Grindr or Adam4Adam in Chico (what do Lesbians use? Eve4Eve?) you go to Panama's on Wednesday, a mantle I think the bar should wear with pride. The other bar that caters to and understands the Gay community in Chico is relatively new. It's called the "Maltese" and every Friday Night they hold a "Gay" Night with drink specials and the like, and I want to SAY to the owner of the Maltese that have a "Gay" Night on a Weekend Night in this town is REALLY big, and I absolutely commend and respect her for that. The atmosphere of the bar isn't 100% gay, but it's always very friendly, very much so like a Gay version of "Cheers". 


On some of these Friday Nights, there are Drag Shows, an art that seems to be slowly dying in Chico, but still seem to garner a good amount of success and bring a crowd. One of these shows happened to be on February 4th, 2012. That night, my friend Brian Denham was the victim of a hate crime.

It was a completely ordinary Friday Night at the Maltese and if anything I will say it was actually rather busy. I had came with my boyfriend to support our fellow drag queen and good friend, Miss Mini Merna. The show seemed to go off without a hitch. Everyone seemed to be in good spirits, and just really enjoying themselves. I remember running into and saying hello to Brian and if there is one thing that I DO want known about Brian, at least in my opinion is that Brian is an absolute joy to talk to. He is kind, he is warmhearted and just a jovial person. He is the kind of guy you want around you because he is uplifting. I'm not going to canonize him, because everyone has both good and bad points, but from everything I've ever seen of Brian, he is a decent and fun, lighthearted person, the last kind of person you would think would end up with his head cracked open on a street corner downtown.


I left early that night. I had to work in the morning, and remember like I said, i'm trying not to be all Courtney Love all the time anymore, so I went home, laid my head on my pillow and went to sleep. The next morning was beautiful and when I went on Facebook, I had learned something terrible at happened. At first nobody was saying anything about who it was, just some very cryptic status updates about a friend getting beat up downtown and that they were at the hospital. Later on that day, the details went through the rumor mill, and the very small gay community of Chico had gotten the details. 


According to accounts, Brian and a few friends had walked further downtown to stop at a Jack in the Box to get some food in their stomachs after a great night. Two of his friends were still in Drag attire from the show. As they stood in line, a group of guys entered the Jack in the Box and began making derogatory slurs about race (one of the friends was African American) and sexual orientation. Now I don't know about you, but having been faced with similar situations before, when your safety is in question, you do what everyone does when being bullied. You try to ignore it. After some back and forth exchange, the group of guys left the line without ordering food and said something about "waiting outside" for Brian and his friends, and sure enough when Brian and his friends were done eating, the guys were outside, waiting for them.


The taunting continued, and when Brian made remarks back, he was allegedly sucker punched in the head. Brian chased after the man but apparently fell to the street after some time, landing face first on the pavement, it was at that point that one of the other "suspects" caught up with Brian, and allegedly stepped on his neck, essentially scraping his head against the pavement. Brian was taken to our local hospital and stayed in the Hospital overnight, he required seven stitches in his head and an orbital injury to one eye, which left no permanent damage...but that doesn't show you how he felt, or what his friends looked at when they dragged his body out of the street. It looked like THIS: 

 

Terrible. What's even more terrible is the handling of the assault by the media and seeming division amongst the gay community about whether or not this is technically classified as a hate crime. I'm including a link to the news article for people to read in here because I think it's important.


Chico ER - Attack May Not Be A Hate Crime


I think it's important to note that this article does not state that Brian was with two others who happened to be in drag, and make it a point to reiterate the fact that he sustained no PERMANENT damage. 


Police Chief Mike Maloney goes on to say this:


"This may have stemmed from a hate incident, but that doesn't necessarily make it a hate crime," Maloney said, adding that a crime appears to have been committed, but, depending on the seriousness of the injuries, may only be chargeable as misdemeanor battery."

So, does one have to have the word  "FAGGOT" etched in his face to classify it a hate crime? If there is only light bruising it's NOT a hate crime? Me? I personally believe that this is a Hate Crime. I don't know the full details but when I search for the actual legal definition of a Hate Crime, I found this site, which seems to say it very clearly.


Legal Definition of a Hate Crime


Some in the Gay community think that this is not a hate crime... that it might have been motivated or brought on the comments and actions of Brian and his friends, and you know what? Maybe that's true, maybe Brian and his friends DID agitate things with their words, but I have to wonder, would this situation ever have arrived if Brian and his friends were women? If Brian and his friends were straight and none of them were in Drag garb to begin with?  Would this have even started if Brian had been by himself? I don't think so. Even if alcohol was a factor in the situation. Brian and his friends were TARGETED because of the way he and his friends appeared, which was GAY.  That's it. The fact that a large part of the gay community opposes this, somewhat enrages me. 

It's a victim mentality, the rape spiral. Society tells us it's our fault, if we would have just "acted" normal this wouldn't have happened. We deserved it. If Brian would have just kept his mouth shut none of this would have ever happened. It's his fault, and to them I say, this is a very unfortunate example of how when we as a COMMUNITY need to come together, we choose to DIVIDE ourselves on the issue. BRIAN DENHAM took a stand...FOR YOU. He made a choice that said, I am not going to let somebody insult the very fiber of my being, I am going to say something, to stand up for my friends, he was UNKNOWINGLY PROTECTING YOUR RIGHTS FOR YOU, in a society where we tend to want to reap the benefits of the hard work of OTHERS.

I think so many times as a community we isolate ourselves within, especially in the gay community of Chico. The lesbians rarely hang out with the gay men, there are certain social groups within social groups within social groups that unwittingly tear each other down simply for not being a part of the group, but what we are forgetting here is that a member of our FAMILY was hurt and BEATEN and the reason is something we, in the gay community all share. Our sexuality. Lucky be the ones who are never taunted. Lucky be the ones that never get flack for being who they are. But the people, who are BOLD enough to wear Drag in public, for our ENTERTAINMENT, the people who fly their flag high and proud and are able to deal with the backlash they receive, it's THOSE we should be thanking. It's people like BRIAN we SHOULD be supporting, not speculating...

Is it going to take something like this happening to YOU to change your mind?  Are you going to have to get your FACE ground into the street to get you to realize that there are people out there that make stupid decisions. Decisions to hate, to not understand? We can NO LONGER be divided as a community if we expect to get ANYTHING accomplished in Chico that promotes equality for ALL peoples. It is times like this when we need to take a STAND, to show people that THIS IS NOT ACCEPTABLE. NOT IN OUR TOWN. We need to BE the change we wish to see. WE need to ACT.


I wrote this in order to raise AWARENESS. PLEASE link to it, PLEASE retweet it, PLEASE comment on it, PLEASE get it out there. PLEASE, do something.
 

Do I Drink Too Much?

So I know it's been a little while since my last post, but quite honestly, that's because not a whole lot has really been going on my life lately. Just working, excercising, not smoking, ya know, being a Mothafuckin ROCKSTAR?!

But today's topic, i've had on my mind for awhile now, I just haven't really been sure on how to prevent it. I am not really even still sure I have it but, who the hell cares, it's my blog and I guess I have to stand by my opinions right?

Today's topic is... Alcohol.

Mmm... Look at All That Booze!

I love alcohol. I love to drink it excessively and get drunk and do stupid shit. I like to say that I have a drinking "hobby" not problem. But with all this trying to keep my body healthy nonsense, i've quickly learned how bad and terrible alcohol is for you and have a completely different relationship with it. I now hate it. I want it so bad but I cannot have it. It will undo everything i've been working in the span of a few hours. It's terrible. If I drink, i'm just going to have to work it off in the gym and to be honest, I just BARELY am on speaking terms with the gym. I like to get in, go hard, and get out...heh heh. I don't want to spend EXTRA time in there just because I decided to drink.

I've also started thinking, that maybe... I might slightly have a little bit of a drinking problem. I mean I don't physically crave alcohol, I don't think about it really all that much, but I really DO enjoy drinking and it's come to the point where I can't NOT drink if I go out on the town because it's just become engrained in me so much. After work you have a beer, after dinner you have a glass of wine, on the weekends you drink until you can't see any more and then you repeat. I thought maybe I was being ridiculous and overly dramatic (Who MOI?!) but then I started googling shit, which is a terrible idea because you start convincing yourself of EVERYTHING...but I mean here is what I found:

The CDC classifies "heavy drinking" by having more than two drinks per day.. Seriously. they do.

They also classify Binge Drinking as a pattern of alcohol consumption that brings the blood alcohol concentration (BAC) level to 0.08%  or more. This pattern of drinking usually corresponds to 5 or more drinks on a single occasion for ment or 4 or more drinks on a single occasion for women, generally within about 2 to 3 hours.

Then I got to the part about Alcohol Abuse:

Alcohol Abuse is a pattern of drinking that results in harm to one’s health, interpersonal relationships, or ability to work. Manifestations of alcohol abuse include the following:

    * Failure to fulfill major responsibilities at work, school, or home.
    * Drinking in dangerous situations, such as drinking while driving or operating machinery.
    * Legal problems related to alcohol, such as being arrested for drinking while driving or for physically hurting someone while drunk.
    * Continued drinking despite ongoing relationship problems that are caused or worsened by drinking.
    * Long-term alcohol abuse can turn into alcohol dependence.
Some of you, this may not apply...to others however, maybe this is a little eye opening. Or you are sitting there telling yourself that it really doesn't apply to you, but if I know a LOT of my friends in Chico, we are ALL pretty much guilty of at least a LITTLE alcohol abuse. I know I am. And DEFINITELY on the binge drinking.

That's right... I drank the WHOLE thing.

Now it wasn't until I moved back to Chico in '08 that I really picked up on the drinking pretty heavily. I mean, in Nevada I definitely could get wasted and pretty hardcore, but those times were few and far between. It just wasn't really part of the culture of Carson City. People just pretty much worked, and the ones that didn't just sat in their basements doing Crystal Meth. But in Chico, unfortunately, a LARGE part of the culture is the downtown area/bar scene.

Coming from a place where it snowed in the Winter and sometimes in June to a place that was Sunny a lot of time, had a LARGE student population and for some reason a LOT more free time, I was like a moth to a flame. It was exciting to live in a town where there were so many young people and so many things geared TOWARDS younger people. I had a pretty decent schedule going on for awhile:

MONDAY: Beareoke @ The Bear
TUESDAY: 90's Night @ LaSalles
WEDNESDAY: Gay Night @ Panamas
THURSDAY: Reggae Night @ Panamas
FRIDAY: 80's Night @ LaSalles
SATURDAY: EVERYWHERE
SUNDAY: Champagne Brunch and Getting Shit Faced @Random Friend's House

I mean I only ever did EVERY single one of those nights maybe two or three times, but I mean I was going out 3-4 times a week, which if you ask anybody in Chico...is pretty normal. Every other friend I have on Facebook that lives in a different state is like "What the Hell! How Are You Still Alive?!"

And I have to say for awhile now, i've been in that trap. Going out is what to do in this town, and drinking is what to do when you go out. Now I know some of you will say that you can go out and have fun and NOT drink, but I would like to meet the person that REALLY has an awesome time being sober around a BAR full of drunk people and give them a medal. It's NOWHERE near as fun. Every single person is on a different level than you are. You are at a 5... at a 7 at the most and they are at LEAST at a 10 or 11. It's a different energy, and it's a hard energy to follow unless you are drunk yourself. And quite honestly if faced with the option of NOT being allowed to drink and going to a bar with my friends and STAYING home... I would most definitely stay home.

Now, I find myself faced with a problem. Because at 25, being drunk every weekend just isn't a good look anymore...it kind of makes me feel like a loser, like I should be doing something important or more worthwhile, justify it however you want people, but it's not a good look. That is something else i've noticed about living in such a party town. Everyone here has what I like to call "Peter Pan" syndrome. Nobody really has to grow up in Chico if they don't want to. You can stay unmarried, unemployed, renting with roommates and drunk well into your 50s and nobody really seems to care. If somebody doesn't like the way you live your life, well there is a BEVVY of incoming freshman coming in the next year and ONE of them will be naive enough to put up with it. Chico seems to be in a perpetual state of Arrested Development. But I guess I can't really judge or live anyone's life for them, I can only go for myself..and I don't know I guess at 25 I thought I might be a little farther along in life...which I kind of attribute to my priorities...which have been drinking. Funny thing is, if I had better priorities and gotten my shit together, I could spend MORE time drinking, but that kind of logic is counterproductive.

"Grow UP? But it's Power Hour at Riley's!"

I think of a lot of things I probably missed out on because I am drunk, and the one thing seems to be real relationships. I didn't drink in highschool..I didn't do anything I really wasn't supposed to, besides smoke cigarettes occassionally to try and look cool, but I felt like a lot of my friendships were more authentic. We got to know each other based solely on the amount of time we decided to spend with each other. We would go to the movies, sit around and watch marathons of our favorite tv shows, just sit and TALK and gossip about the goings on in our lives. I felt real connection. I have real friends in my life, don't get me wrong, but I often wonder how much closer we could be if we both put down the bottle and had a conversation instead, or stayed in and watched movies or something?

And i'm faced with being a total shut in. Because I am not going on some unrealistic I'm never drinking again crusade because it's unrealistic and I DO like to drink, but where do I draw the line? How do I not become a hypocrite? I want to go out and get my drink on, but I would really like to urge my friends to do things other than drink. I want potluck dinners, I want movie nights, I want I don't know...frickin' trips to the park...and my friends are adults, I can't STOP anyone from drinking if they don't want to, and nor do I PLAN on doing that. I guess I am just yearning for something authentic these days.

I was at a bar twice this week and I had fun, but there was something in the back of my head going "Why Am I Here?" and the answer really only was "Because Everyone Else Is." It wasn't because I really wanted to go, it was because all my friends were there and if I wasn't there, or didn't want to go, I would be drinking a glass of wine and watching "P.S. I Love You" on my couch alone. I feel like I have to participate or I won't ever frickin' see anybody, and that kind of sucks. And I also don't want to be faced with drinking all the time, because EVERYBODY wants to have a good time, and I know alcohol definitely helps me do that...It comes down to if ya can't beat them, join them? And it just kind of sucks.

Yeah, I look so sexually attractive there, right? Photo credit to my friend, Jon Timko.

Not to mention... Alcohol is SO fucking bad for you, all around. I've been doing all this eating right and exercising only to have it be destroyed by a few drinks in the night. Even if I eat right and exercise the way I have been doing and STILL drink as much, I still would put myself at a much higher risk of diabetes. By having a blog on the internet, in which I post the link on my facebook, it gives you a pretty high ass level of accountability. People are coming up to me and telling me how proud they are of me, they are telling me I look good, they won't let me smoke if I wanted to... They support being healthy and taking initiative...yet none of them say anything when they see a drink in my hand, and maybe it's because I haven't talked about not wanting to drink, but I actually honestly think that people maybe have the same misconception that I have, that if it's liquid it almost doesn't count, that or they just don't care and want to get shitfaced. (Unfortunately, I am blessed/cursed with skinny beautiful friends who can and will degrade their bodies in ways I didn't think imaginable and still look fantastic.) I don't know... in this town it becomes one of the only pasttimes and I don't think people realize how much TIME it consumes or how excluded one can feel if they DON'T drink.

OMG! This is So AWESOME! We're like FUCKING GODS!!!

Looks like it's me an reruns of Designing Women tonight!

I just want better for myself... and I want better for my friends, and I want to get to know my friends better, that's all I am really saying.. I just feel at a crossroads right now as to how to do so. Who knew making a decision to take care of myself would bring up and tailspin so many other different areas of my life. I want to have fun and enjoy alcohol just as much as everyone, but I don't know how much is too much, where I draw the line, how not to be a hypocrite about it, and really just how to deal with the whole thing. How can one moderate when they excessively drink? What a question that is haha.

That all being said, tonight I probably WILL drink. It's a Friend of Mine's Birthday, and I want to celebrate and have a good time, and then tomorrow at a probable champagne brunch  I will probably forget all I have typed and give in...but at least at THIS moment in time, i'm aware, and I want to find a HEALTHY balance. That's all for now.

Peace. Love. Dorothy.

Coming Out Stories: Brandon

 Disclaimer: What you are about to read is what I am hoping to be a regular series on my blog which I have called "Coming Out Stories". This is an effort to promote awareness and support to STOP the bullying of LGBTQ Youth as well as an effort to inspire those that may be afraid to walk in their truth and be who they are. I will be posting each story as I get them, and I hope you will enjoy. Here is my OWN story:

I guess...growing up, I was actually pretty blithely unaware of myself. I was a pretty independent child with quite the mouth on him starting at the age of three years old. I had kids that I would play with, but most of the time I was by myself. I created my own worlds, my own characters, my own creations. I had a world that was solely mine, people that existed only to me, and rules that I applied to everyday life. A dream state. My Mother would probably tell you that she knew I was gay at the Age of Three. I had an imaginary friend named Iola around that time. I played with Iola all the time. I know it sounds crazy, but I definitely remember her. She would just sit and listen to me go on and on about everything I was thinking about, she would play with me, and honestly I didn't think she was imaginary at all. I thought she was our next door neighbor at the time. It wasn't until I looked back MANY years later that I realized I was the only person who ever had ANY interaction with her. She also looked exactly like the character Iola Boylen from "Mama's Family". For those of you who are too young to remember the show, or have forgotten, this is exactly what my imaginary friend looked like.

Here's Your Sign. At the age of 5 I got in trouble at my school which was a Christian Private School for singing "Like A Prayer" by Madonna on the playground, which please take a moment to understand and realize how ridiculous this is. I was five years old, I had no idea the subtext of the music video, I just remember singing it along with my Uncle who sometimes babysat me. "Like A Prayer" was the first complete song I ever learned. Here's Your Sign.

I never liked playing with "Boy" things. When I was also 5, my mother got married and I inherited a Step Brother as well as eventually a Sister. My Step Father was a guys' guy. He was a hick from a small town in Northern California, and though I remember having a LOT of fun with him growing up, he is where I experienced my first bouts of Homophobia. I don't think he was TRYING to be homophobic, I think he really just thought I needed a strong male figure in my life. He would try to get me to play guy things like baseball, soccer, shooting guns, things of that nature. And some of them, yeah I did like, but really? If i'm being honest? After my sister was born and about 3 or 4 years old, all I really wanted to do is play with her and her Barbies. Here's Your Sign.

I remember my Stepfather getting angry and I remember him telling my Mother on more than one occassion "You know he's gonna grow up and be gay right?" Gay. That was the first time I had ever heard that word, I didn't even know what it meant, but it was really the first time I had heard a characteristic applied to me that I didn't understand...but I never really put much stock in it, it did however create tension between my mother and my Stepfather. I think part of the problem I had growing up was that every man that entered my Mom's life tried to be "My Father", and if i'm being honest, i've never met my birth father and I really just don't feel like I missed out on anything important. To me it didn't matter if I could throw a football well, it mattered that I knew things about the world. I think I was definitely a product of being somewhat "raised" by television, which is not to say my Mother wasn't a good mother, but she was a single Mom for most of my life and worked her ass off, I spent a lot of time alone or babysitting my sister, or being babysat and the easiest solution for children, unfortunately is USUALLY Television.


I always tried to watch things that were way beyond my field of reference and understand them, whatever this "adult" world was, I wanted to be a part of it, which would explain the very mouthy, matter of factness I had in my youth. I was drawn to TV shows and movies where the women were in control or had power or somewhat of a scandal about them. I thought they were beautiful, and they weren't supposed to have this power, at least I didn't think so when I was young, but they did. I was raised around mostly women. My childhood friends were my Mom's Best Friend's children, who were all girls. In order to hang out and play with them, I had to fit in. So when I got the Hot Wheels toy instead of the Barbie toy in my McDonald's Happy Meal? I threw a fit. I was very fortunate however, to have a mother who never asked questions, who didn't care if I played with a girl toy, a boy toy, or a cardboard box as long as I was happy. 


So, even with my "feminine" dispositions, I lived a relatively normal childhood, for the most part free of really anyone making fun of me for being who I was. This all changed when I entered Junior High. 


The town I live in is actually a pretty Liberal and open town, but 12 - 14 year old children are not a part of that. I have said time and time again that Junior High is NOTORIOUSLY the worst years for most kids who are different. For whatever reason, when we reach preadolescence we become horrible DEMON spawns who mask our differences by blatantly and RUDELY pointing out the differences of others, I will start by saying that yeah, I definitely engaged in the name calling, and taunting myself, as I feel if I DIDN'T say that I would be portraying myself as some kind of righteous sweet person who never had a hand in the tormenting of others. We ALL did. EVERYBODY had somebody they made fun or did something nasty to. We were ALL at that age once. I am not saying what I experienced was WORSE than others, but I can only speak from my own story and truth. 


The first person I ever really remember being a BULLY to me was in the 7th Grade. His name was Tony Mullins. I use his full name because I have never been a fan of discretion in any form. He didn't make fun of me because he knew me to be gay, HE made fun of me because I was fat. In gym class, he would run next to me while I ran and TAUNT me, saying things "Come on, fatty. You better pick up the pace! Run fat ass, run!" It was TERRIBLE...everything that I did, he would make some comment to make me feel pretty much like shit. I dreaded that class and pretty much every PE Class after that because of people like him. It was the first time I really ever remember feeling self conscious, not good enough. And after 7th grade, it only got worse.


In the 8th and 9th grade, I was pretty much tormented by a guy named Marcos Rivas. Again, I use his full name because I don't believe in discretion, and for him to have had the balls as a 14 year old boy to say and do the things he did to me, he should also have the balls to stand in his truth. As luck would always seem to have it, whatever bully I had ended up being in at least three or four of my classes, and Marcos was no exception. I VIVIDLY remember sitting in my Earth Sciences class in 9th grade and getting assigned to be in his lab group. The entire class he would literally say such things as "You know you're gay right? You know you like to suck dick right? Does your boyfriend like when you suck his dick?" It was degrading and embarrassing as he would do this in front of other people, ANYBODY who would listen, and I never felt worse about myself than in 9th Grade Earth Science class. I had another bully in Spanish in the 9th grade named David Garcia who would pretty much take any chance to tell me that I was gay and ask me how much I liked penis.


9th grade was... a terrible year. I even had a teacher be blatantly homophobic to me my freshman year. I was in Math A AKA Slow People Math and had a teacher named Mr. Keating who is still a teacher at the high school I went to. He was a man who had very much lived out his best days in high school and it showed in almost everything he did and said. He didn't want to be an authority figure, he wanted to be buddies. In class he pointed out several times my feminine tendencies, once even knit-picking the way that I covered my mouth to cover my laugh. I merely covered it with both my hands while he pointed out in front of the class that "Only girls cover there mouths like that and that boys should make a fist to do so." Yeah, seriously. Also once on a field trip across the street to the Safeway I remember him telling me that I should maybe not say all the things I say and then people would not make fun of me. Yeah, this was a teacher in my school.


So you can see how in all of this, I never told anybody. I never told a damn soul, because from my opinion, it was coming from every direction, and that this being "gay" thing was a giant problem. I wasn't trying to "be" anything but myself, but it seemed to draw a lot of attention, a lot of "scandal." The funny thing was, I was somewhat known for being one of the biggest smart asses to ever walk the halls of the school, but it was bravado, it was all an act. I had to appear confident, I had to appear like it didn't phase me, otherwise I would have probably been VERY far off.  But in a WAY, this actually started me on a path to figure out who I was...when people tell you that you act gay, or that you ARE gay, you begin to think...maybe I AM gay? 


I felt a little asexual in high school. I wasn't really attracted to anybody in particular..but I DID know that when I masturbated, it was to images of men...and for some strange reason usually the men who were mean to me, almost as a coping mechanism to deal with the verbal assault. I never dated, and although girls were interested in me, the only interest I had in THEM was the confusion on as to why they were interested in me in the first place. I really didn't feel like a sexual human being, which just makes one feel more isolated. I felt pretty alone, and if not for escapes like the Internet or TV, I probably would have attempted something far more dangerous. I never used alcohol or drugs while I was growing up and in school, it was just never an option for me. I dealt by living in fantasy, I dealt by maintaining HOPE that once I was done with school, I could be FREE, I could go and do what I wanted and nobody would care. And you know what? It turned out, that for the most part...I was right.


After high school, I moved to Carson City, Nevada. I wanted to get out of Chico but still have family nearby, and my grandparents and cousin happened to live in Carson City, so I felt a little safe. I lived with my cousin in a one bedroom depressing apartment, had no car, walked to my glamorous job at KFC everyday, and again had very little social interaction. For those of you who know me today, it might be hard to believe that from the ages of 13 to about 19 most of friends were "online". I didn't go to parties, hang out, I didn't really... have any friends. If it wasn't for my cousin Airen all but forcing me to participate in my life, I don't know where I might be today, and for that I thank her.


Through my cousin, I met many different people from all walks of life and had my encounter with my first actual openly gay person, and his name was Pedro. He was a VERY effeminate, loud and crazy personality and to be quite honest he scared the hell out of me. I thought that if I admitted that I was gay to myself that all of a sudden I would become very much like Pedro. The only other gay people I had seen until that point in my life had been from watching scrambled "Queer as Folk" on SHO in my bedroom in high school. Again I was very afraid that once I said it out loud, that once I admitted this truth, I would become a dancing queen gym bunny who slept with anything that moved and couldn't live without techno. I thought it would transform me in a way I didn't want or like.


After a lot of deep personal thought, I couldn't help but think that the reason I really wasn't enjoying my life was because I wasn't living authentically. I didn't have relationships with people because they didn't know who I really was. I spent every single day waking up repeating "I'm Gay. I'm Gay, I'm Gay, I'm Gay" all day long, almost as if I had to convince myself. Six months later it changed to "Today I'm going to tell somebody that I'm gay." and before long...I finally worked up the courage. I had gotten a job at Starbucks and was starting to make a lot of new friends, and I decided that it was time to really just put myself out there. The first person I ever told was my co-worker and friend Monica Ward. We were closing at Starbucks together and I told her that after work I really needed to talk to her, and so... in the parking lot of a Starbucks in Carson City, NV in the year 2005 I told my friend Monica that I was gay. I chose her first because I was pretty sure that she would have the most positive of reactions of my friends, and I was right. She told me pretty much what everyone else after her would tell me. "I know, babe. I was just waiting for you to know."


VERY THANKFULLY for me, I was blessed with family and friends that were MORE than supportive of me and my confession. I thank God everyday that I have the people in my life that I do. I was one of the very lucky ones to never experience that horrible pain of somebody NOT accepting my truth, of somebody DISOWNING me. I was LUCKY. VERY LUCKY and am not ignorant of the fact.


The next months of my life were a whirlwind as my social calender opened up, I met my first long term boyfriend, Kalib who would be in my life for the next 3 years, I moved out from my cousin and I's small apartment and in with a roommate. I drank alcohol, and I didn't die. I LIVED life. All because I was finally able to be WHO I was to EVERYBODY, and my happiness wasn't based on their reactions, it was based on me being AUTHENTICALLY me. I didn't have to be overcompensating with humor or sarcasm or opinion or anything. I got to be ME. I had shed the sins and hurt of the past and fully accepted BRANDON.


Five years later, I am sitting here, working for a small locally owned business BACK in my hometown. A company that has 6 employees that fall in the LGTBQ umbrella, and NOBODY talks about it, nobody cares. It's a diverse company because it simply is. I have a boyfriend who I love and adore. A man who was married and has TWO children and an amazing support system around him. I have so many great gay friends, with so many different stories from so many different walks of life, all with a different frame of reference and perspective and THAT is what this story is all about. I think it's important to share the stories of the people that I love in an effort to pay it forward. To show people that it doesn't MATTER where you came from, that who you WERE isn't as important as the person that you are TRYING to be. You CAN find happiness, and that if you just wait out those painful days, months, hours, seconds that seem to drive DEEP into your very soul, that you inevitably come out stronger and happy. Your life is yours, nobody has to live it but you. You have nothing to lose but what no longer serves you. TRUST ME. It DOES get better.

The Temptation Factor

I have to admit, when I started writing this blog, I thought it was going to be a lot more "Pop Culture" centered and a lot less personal. But, I've noticed the stories I enjoy writing the most are, in true narcissist fashion, about me and my life, and this time it's no different. So deal with it.

Today's topic is Temptation.

Everybody deals with temptation, in fact, most societal and social constructs are BASED on temptation. RELIGION is based out of temptation, all because some bitch decided she needed that APPLE instead of one of the many delicious animals around her. Seriously, that APPLE over a nice venison stew? This proves my point that Vegetarianism is INHERENTLY evil, but I digress.

Look at Her...Just EVIL.

In making these changes in my life, I notice that I am being tempted a LOT. None of it is purposeful, but since i've never made the conscious decision to say NO to something I wanted but knew wasn't good for me before, I am now faced with decisions and situations i've never dealt with before.

Smoking is of course the biggest one. Since i've stopped smoking it seems like the rest of the world has started up. I was downtown the other day with a friend and it seemed like everybody around me was smoking, lighting up, taking the delicious smoke into their lungs and exhaling it like kings, while I scratched my Nicotine patch and ate a salad.

"Look At Me! On TOP of the Fuckin' World!"

On my walk home, I passed three people just walking along the street, smoking, living their lives, their devil may care attitudes almost bitch slapping in the face as I drank my iced coffee and went about my day. Had I stopped smoking I never would have noticed this. I wouldn't care, because I would be one of them. "Oh you're smoking? Well watch me smoke two at ONCE! God I feel so ALIVE!" But i'm not, and I can't help but feel like maybe I am missing out on something, as stupid as I know that to be. I actually LIKE not smoking, I feel better, I don't cough up my lungs every morning, I feel I have more energy, blood is actually circulating through my body again, and I don't smell like smoke, still I can't help but feel like i'm missing out.


The other thing is eating. I have eaten more vegetables, fish, etc. in the past week than I have in all of 2011 and, again I feel REALLY good, but I just keep getting faced with these decisions i've never had to make before. My partner happens to be one of those blessed with a very small frame and fast metabolism. He doesn't eat SUPER healthy, but he does okay, and hell for the most part, we end up eating the same thing. His waist remains the size of a Russian Ballerina while my waist size expands to that of the iceberg that sunk the Titanic. It's not fair, and i've learned to accept it.

I Only Eat Air!

Mmm, Bitch! Bring Me More GRAVY!

He is super supportive of the new choices i've made, but he also isn't going out of his way to help out, and I don't expect him to. He has two kids, and they aren't going to eat seared ahi tuna steaks, they want BBQ Chicken and Potato Salad, they want Burgers and the like, and I could eat like that if I wanted it. It's right in front of me, it's already prepared. Some would say just go to the gym and burn it off but I am not doing this in order to just lose weight, i'm doing it as a part of an extreme personal makeover. I want to be healthy. I don't want to lose my leg to Diabetes at 30. I want to LIVE dammit, I want to LIVE! I have to look at the burgers people are eating around me, and try to enjoy my Turkey Burger (and before ANYBODY says anything, it's NOT the fucking same. A Turkey Burger will NEVER taste as good as a regular burger because it's a TURKEY!)

Turkey Burger = Not the Business.

We are told VERY conflicting things about temptation. In terms of dieting, one line of thought is that you shouldn't withhold certain things from yourself because they will drive you crazy and you will fall off the wagon and the other side says PUT DOWN THAT DONUT FATASS AND GET ON THE TREADMILL. What's a guy to do?

Here is what i've come to believe about temptation. There are certain things that you just don't ever do...like kill somebody (unless you know you will CERTAINLY get away with it). Don't overindulge in temptation otherwise it's not a temptation, it's a habit, it's normal. There is NO mystique about this behavior. It becomes who you are. You will be the bitch everybody knows that can clear a buffet in 3.5 and have room for the Tiramisu.

"Hey Ya'll! Did Somebody Say Buffet? Gimme, Gimme More...HOTWINGS!"

 

 

I also believe that you DO need room in order to give into temptation, because a lot of times we beat ourselves up too much about things. Having a handful of chips isn't going to kill you, Eating Six Bags of Chips will Stop Your Heart. So... I guess I am a fan of the addage "Everything in Moderation" which is why I guess this has been a difficult time for me as I only EVER do anything in excess... I don't want one drink, I want to get chocolate wasted. I don't want just a few chips, I want the whole damn bag, I don't want one cigarette, I want one coming out of every oraphus of my body all at once. I guess i'm just learning to apply this factor the healthy parts of my life. I can eat a shit ton of carrots if I want. I can work out until I want to pass out, and I can drink water like it WILL get me mothafuckin' chocolate wasted, and the GOOD part about this is that the more I indulge in the healthy side of things, the more I can feel GOOD about myself when I do decide to engage in the healthy social binge drinking I like to do every now and again.

The EPITOME of Chocolate Wasted? Wait, is this Racist?

So, my advice to those that are maybe going through what I am right now, who feel a little over their heads with the New Years Resolutions you've made, is that EVERYDAY is a choice. EVERYDAY is a new day, and you know what, when I do small things, I reward the shit out of myself, I make everybody nauseaus with telling them how good a job I did, even if it's I ate a bag of carrots instead of having a cigarette or a pound of Chow Mein. Talk it out, share your excitement, because you know, your friends WANT you to be healthy, they want you to be happy, and make good decisions, and who knows, maybe celebrating the small victories will lead to celebrating bigger victories, and you just might inspire one of your OWN friends to make a change for themselves?

"Save the Cheerleader, Save the World"

Okay, I feel SUPER Self Help Book Right Now, so I am going to quit while i'm ahead. Keep on Keeping On, and Stay Strong, Temptation Warriors.

Girl! I Got Acupuncture!

So, before I go forward with today's story, just want to announce that I went on the patch this last Sunday and have now been SMOKE FREE ever since, bitches! That's over 4, count 'em FOUR mothafuckin' days! Feel free to send me gift baskets or make a plaque or something. Anywho, in researching the many different methods people take to stop smoking, I stumbled across something called Acupuncture.

Acupuncture is a type of alternative medicine that treats patients by insertion and manipulation of solid, generally thin needles in the body. People do this for many different reasons, most of them including Pain Management and Depression, it's a fascinating thing i've always wanted to try,and so when I found out my friend Jenn now works for an Acupuncture Project that just opened up in my town, I knew I had to try it, and while at lunch with her the other day she happened to give me a coupon that would make my first session only FIVE dollars. I had no choice but to go and give it a try, I mean what else did I have to lose besides feeling in my face?

So I went online and booked the appointment and today I went in the morning with my friend Janel to go get poked.The location is small and a little grim, but that's mostly because I very vividly remember that this place used to be a methodone clinic. As I entered the front door I did a hail mary and prayed that they had bought new sets of needles.

The inside of the building is in stark constrast to the outside. There is the standard New Agey Relaxing Music, Earth Tone Paintings and a Hippy Lady at the front desk who greeted me in a soft whisper of a voice:

Lady: Welcome to Pinwheel! You Must Be Brandon!

Yeah the name of the project is called Pinwheel. Hilarious! And half of the reason I decided to go. She gave me a questionnaire that had me answer a few questions about why I was there and such. Now most of you probably think I went to go get Smoking Cessation or Weight Management, but fuck you, I didn't. I went for Mood, Energy and Motivation. I figured with all the changes I am making in my life, I have noticed a real effect on my energy and mood. When you don't rely on smoking and coffee for your energy and only the nutrients you feed your body throughout the day, you tend to get tired easily. My energy has been platteauing at around 2pm and just really drags me down. I wanted to maybe have it work on my Mood to help maintain a positive attitude throughout this process as well as to work on perhaps my biggest issue which is Motivation and Focus. It's the reason i've let myself get to the point I am now at. The smoking, the eating and the exercise I wanted to do simply on my own, for me. But for the other stuff I turned to acupuncture.

After, I filled out my questionnaire, I was taken into a main room that had MANY Lazy Boy Recliners covered in sheets and several people with many needles sticking out of MANY places fast asleep. I was nervous. I am not really a GROUP person. I hate GROUP therapy, GROUP dates...the only thing I like in groups is Sex, so unless we were about to get naked and get down, I was a little unsure. As I settled down and sat in the comfy recliner, I was asked to take off my shoes and roll my pants up. Oh! So it WAS sexytime? Hell Yeah. I learned a few seconds later that it was not, as my Acupuncturist (Is that a Word?) Michelle came up and greeted me in the same whisper, that was the thing about this place, everything was done in a whisper. I was afraid she would hear my need for motivation as "chronic burning urination" and never be the same again. However, it was quite the contrary, Michele was VERY nice and attentive and before long, I was stuck full of pins and told to sit there for 45 minutes:

The waiting was the hardest part. Michelle informed me that most people just kind of fall asleep in a very relaxing nap. That was not going to happen for me. I am SITTING in a goddamn recliner with pins in my HEAD, my EARS, my ARMS and my LEGS. I didn't want to frickin' MOVE, let alone drift off to sleep because as my boyfriend can attest I am quite the active mover and shaker when I sleep.

At this point, I felt bad for asking my friend Janel to come with me, because I thought we would be like a little more alone and that I could maybe talk with Janel to get over the nervousness, but I like I said we were in an open room with other people who seemed completely ignorant to the fact that they were strung up like pincushions. I just kind of wanted to LAUGH about the whole thing because it's very odd to look at yourself with all these needles just hanging out in your skin. I should have told her about my blood transfusion in the 80's..but we were past that point.

The pain of the needles actually didn't really hurt at all, and I guess I will liken the pain to getting a shot that hurts exponentially less than the needle of a shot feels. Most of the needles I couldn't even feel, though the ones in my ears and legs, I definitely felt. I tried to have Janel take a picture of me all poked and prodded but we both felt that in the current situation it would have been a little innappropriate, because like I said, most people are there for pain management, not for getting off their asses and cleaning the kitchen on a regular basis like me.

I tried to zone out and listen to the music and it WAS relaxing but I did have ONE complaint about it. I am pretty sure it had some kind of baby whale sound effect to it. Every 10 or 15 seconds or so in the music there was this weird subtle like...whining baby whale noise...it was NOT relaxing at all.

I really tried my best to relax and close my eyes and just be in the moment, and I think that for the most part I did, but my fear of death via needles kept me awake. I waited until the earliest possible moment I could officially be done and waved Michelle over who promptly took the pins out of me and thanked me for my first visit. She then handed me a card that told me of my "Plan" she reccommended. She reccommended that I try and go twice a week and that after 8 sessions we would do somewhat of a progress report, see if it was working for me and see where we needed to fix things. And just like that, I paid my five dollars and I was DONE.

During the process I did have a few involuntary "ticks" in the spots where I had needles and I did feel like there WAS an... "energy" kind of pulsing in my body and afterwards I had a kind of rush similar to when one gets a tattoo. They say that after your first session you are supposed to feel 5 to 10 percent better and I have to admit I DID. I wasn't bursting with intense supernatural strength and vigor, but I noticed there WAS a little more of a bounce in my stance. I was singing along to the radio a little more, had a little bit more SWAGGER if you will. Ain't nothing but a G Thang, Baby.

So I guess... I will be going back and the best part about this place is that payment is on a sliding scale. They realize that this kind of thing can be a little pricey and their goal is to help people of ALL walks of life to get this kind of therapy. You pay from $15 to $35. That's it! Whatever you can afford and no questions asked! And I think THAT's pretty cool. In a world where a trip in an ambulence costs you $1000 and where Health Insurance is BASICALLY unnaffordable unless you are already rich, this seems like a very nice and interesting alternative treatment for things that can get REALLY expensive like pain medications.

My Final Prognosis: If You Can Get Through the needle stigma, I say what do you have to lose?

If You Happen to be from Chico, CA like me, I am going to include a link to the website as well as their Facebook page, get a little info and maybe make an appointment!

Pinwheel Chico

The Pinwheel Community Acupuncture Project on Facebook




Peace.Love.Dorothy