<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6035536362934730183</id><updated>2011-04-21T22:28:17.152-05:00</updated><category term='lisa'/><category term='girl 2'/><category term='coming out'/><category term='high school'/><category term='thanks'/><category term='college'/><category term='lucy'/><category term='hot'/><category term='college 1'/><category term='dream'/><category term='dating'/><category term='youtube'/><category term='girl 1'/><category term='clubbing'/><category term='girlfriend'/><category term='college 2'/><category term='friends'/><title type='text'>opening the closet</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://openingthecloset.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6035536362934730183/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://openingthecloset.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Mr. X</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14400246646936806226</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>53</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6035536362934730183.post-7762613651530533290</id><published>2008-11-05T20:40:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2008-11-05T20:42:38.423-06:00</updated><title type='text'>our next president</title><content type='html'>&lt;center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photobucket.com/images/obama" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i260.photobucket.com/albums/ii24/ncogar07/Obama.png" border="0" alt="obama Pictures, Images and Photos" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6035536362934730183-7762613651530533290?l=openingthecloset.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://openingthecloset.blogspot.com/feeds/7762613651530533290/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6035536362934730183&amp;postID=7762613651530533290&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6035536362934730183/posts/default/7762613651530533290'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6035536362934730183/posts/default/7762613651530533290'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://openingthecloset.blogspot.com/2008/11/our-next-president.html' title='our next president'/><author><name>Mr. X</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14400246646936806226</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6035536362934730183.post-6799355411762967540</id><published>2008-10-31T22:36:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2008-10-31T22:50:56.414-05:00</updated><title type='text'>lance bass is gay</title><content type='html'>anyone watch dancing with the stars?&lt;div&gt;i do...i wish i knew ballroom dancing. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;one of my high school friends had a huge 18th birthday party and she had chosen a few people to perform a group dance to two different routines. i was one of the people chosen and i got to learn a waltz and merengue routine.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;anyway, the point of this entry is that my mom and i are avid watchers of the show. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;well, in the begining of this season, lance bass and his dance partner performed to katy perry's I Kissed A Girl. they ended the dance with lance giving his dance partner a big kiss on the lips. it was a surprise ending to the routine to which my mom asked, "isn't he married??"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;LOL...umm...i'm not sure where my mom got this idea but i just replied with, "uh, no."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i was going to say "he's gay" but for some reason i couldn't. i'm not sure why...i guess part of it is because "he's gay" is so close to "i'm gay" and just saying "gay" is hard for me to do with my parents. another part of it is fearing her reaction if it was negative.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;however, i think it would have been a great oppurtunity to see how she reacted to finding out someone who she thought was straight (and married) was actually gay.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photobucket.com/images/dancing+with+the+stars+lance" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i106.photobucket.com/albums/m276/calebaldwinjun9/Dancing%20with%20the%20Stars/lance_bass.jpg" border="0" alt="Lance Bass Pictures, Images and Photos" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6035536362934730183-6799355411762967540?l=openingthecloset.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://openingthecloset.blogspot.com/feeds/6799355411762967540/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6035536362934730183&amp;postID=6799355411762967540&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6035536362934730183/posts/default/6799355411762967540'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6035536362934730183/posts/default/6799355411762967540'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://openingthecloset.blogspot.com/2008/10/lance-bass-is-gay.html' title='lance bass is gay'/><author><name>Mr. X</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14400246646936806226</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://i106.photobucket.com/albums/m276/calebaldwinjun9/Dancing%20with%20the%20Stars/th_lance_bass.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6035536362934730183.post-1189740703103728927</id><published>2008-10-30T22:33:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2008-10-31T00:07:43.119-05:00</updated><title type='text'>update</title><content type='html'>so i guess you could say i've been on a hiatus from my blog. it wasn't intentional...i have just been busy busy busy and didn't have much time. i'm sure i've lost most of the very few readers that i had, but i'll still continue to write because i like having this "journal" to look back on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so what are the significant updates in my life? here we go...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the week of august 11th, i took a 5 day trip to visit my friends from college 1 (where i first went to school before transferrring to where i am now). i hadn't seen them in two years! during the trip i wasn't really sure if i'd come out to anyone or not. well, to keep this entry short...i ended up coming out to one of them. he was actually becoming one of my best friends while i was there and he was gay himself.&lt;br /&gt;it was my third day of being there that i came out to him.  most of the time i was there, i was always with two or more of my friends at a time. on the fourth day, everybody else was busy in the morning except for him so the two of us went to the movies.&lt;br /&gt;sitting in the theater 45 early, we began to chat. the conversation turned to relationships and he asked if i was seeing anybody. i told him i was single and in my head i thought this would be a good time to tell him about me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"well, actually......there's something that i've been wanting to let you know about me...you might have already known or thought so, but...i'm gay."&lt;br /&gt;"really? ...i thought you might be, but i wasn't too sure."&lt;br /&gt;then he asked how long i knew and who else knew. i told him how i've always known on some level and those that i'm out to.&lt;br /&gt;he told me he was happy that i could tell him. the whole thing went really well and was really relaxed. it wasn't a big deal at all!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the next big update happened thursday night of august 21st. lisa and i were supposed to go visit lucy (who is going to college about 1.5 to 2 hours away from us.) well, lisa couldn't go so it was just me. the plan was just to hang out with lucy and rick (her roommate who's also gay). we were gonna go out to a club that night, but instead we decided to just stay home and have a few drinks. it doesn't take much to get me tipsy and let's say we were all a little beyond tipsy..lol. well, lucy ended up falling asleep on the couch and rick went outside to smoke. i followed him outside to keep him company since i don't smoke myself. he was sitting on a chair on the outside porch and he was trying to show me something on the bricks. since i was sitting across from him i got up and moved to where he was to get a better look. because i had quite a bit to drink, i wasn't quite sure what i was looking for. i just remember giggling because i couldn't find it. (when i've been drinking i giggle a LOT)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;well, i threw my head back because apparently i thought this was hilarious and i kinda stumble on his lap. oops...haha. well, needless to say, i sat there for a moment or two and the next thing i know we're making out! after a few minutes we went back inside because mosquitoes starting biting him. when we walked in, lucy had already left the couch and went to her room to sleep. the two of us went to his room and well....let's say things started heating up again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the next day rick had to go to work and lucy and i slept in and later went to lunch. when we went back to her place, i went to wash my hands i couldn't help but notice i had a small hickey on my neck. she never brought it up so i wasn't sure if she noticed it or not. well, i packed up my stuff and drove back home.&lt;br /&gt;later that night i got a text message: did rick have anyone over last night?&lt;br /&gt;i replied: no, why?&lt;br /&gt;she answered: then who attacked his neck??&lt;br /&gt;oops! haha, apparently i wasn't the only one with a hickey.  she told me his hickeys were more visible than mine had been.&lt;br /&gt;she said she knew it was me because she saw mine, but didn't know if she knew what she was seeing...and when she saw his neck, she knew for sure. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6035536362934730183-1189740703103728927?l=openingthecloset.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://openingthecloset.blogspot.com/feeds/1189740703103728927/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6035536362934730183&amp;postID=1189740703103728927&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6035536362934730183/posts/default/1189740703103728927'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6035536362934730183/posts/default/1189740703103728927'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://openingthecloset.blogspot.com/2008/10/update.html' title='update'/><author><name>Mr. X</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14400246646936806226</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6035536362934730183.post-5046757234169468422</id><published>2008-09-23T23:08:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-09-23T23:09:24.313-05:00</updated><title type='text'>...</title><content type='html'>oh blog, how i've missed you so!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6035536362934730183-5046757234169468422?l=openingthecloset.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://openingthecloset.blogspot.com/feeds/5046757234169468422/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6035536362934730183&amp;postID=5046757234169468422&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6035536362934730183/posts/default/5046757234169468422'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6035536362934730183/posts/default/5046757234169468422'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://openingthecloset.blogspot.com/2008/09/blog-post.html' title='...'/><author><name>Mr. X</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14400246646936806226</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6035536362934730183.post-2638275629123515820</id><published>2008-08-06T01:06:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-08-06T01:33:25.812-05:00</updated><title type='text'>it's been a while...</title><content type='html'>i first want to give a big thanks to the people who left encouraging comments to my last post!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;sorry i haven't updated in a while. :(&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;not much has really happened since my last post. i said i would say how the trip after i came out went so here it goes (it's not much):&lt;br /&gt;later that night lisa took me outside and we just chatted for a bit. basically she told me the same thing from inside.&lt;br /&gt;she told me how she knows it's hard and that it sucks how society isn't fully accepting, but the times have changed where it is at least more accepting than it used to be.&lt;br /&gt;she even confided in me with some very serious issues she's dealt with.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;however, the next morning, things seemed somewhat back to normal. nobody every really mentioned my "coming out."&lt;br /&gt;i suppose that it's a good thing as if it were to say "nothing's changed among us" and that i'm still the same person.&lt;br /&gt;that was nice and all, but i would have like to talk about it more and stuff, but i guess it was my fault since i should have been the one to bring it up. they were probably waiting for my cue to let them know it was okay to talk about.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;okay, so fast foward to a few weeks later.&lt;br /&gt;lucy's roommate was there, but was doing homework the whole time in his room. let's call her roommate rick. he is gay.&lt;br /&gt;so i was on facebook when he IMs me and admits he's been drinking and says he didn't want to bring it up, but he was curious as to why everyone was emotional and why i was crying that night.&lt;br /&gt;he then says that he has his suspicions and that it's okay.&lt;br /&gt;i had figured lucy told him everything when i left, but she hadn't. this made me how trusting our relationship is.&lt;br /&gt;since i figured he already knew what was going on, he would have to know eventually since i'll be visiting lucy every now and then.&lt;br /&gt;so i typed, "you're right. rick...i'm gay."&lt;br /&gt;he replied, "you actually said it! i'm so proud of you."&lt;br /&gt;that made me feel good.  i asked him if he ever suspected that i was gay.&lt;br /&gt;he claims that he knew all along, lol. i may be true though because he said he kept asking lucy if i was gay.&lt;br /&gt;i asked, "what did she say??"&lt;br /&gt;"she said she really didn't think so and that you would have come out to her already."&lt;br /&gt;after he typed that, i realized how long ago i wished i had told her. but it's okay because she knows now.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6035536362934730183-2638275629123515820?l=openingthecloset.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://openingthecloset.blogspot.com/feeds/2638275629123515820/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6035536362934730183&amp;postID=2638275629123515820&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6035536362934730183/posts/default/2638275629123515820'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6035536362934730183/posts/default/2638275629123515820'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://openingthecloset.blogspot.com/2008/08/its-been-while.html' title='it&apos;s been a while...'/><author><name>Mr. X</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14400246646936806226</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6035536362934730183.post-232944389055128555</id><published>2008-07-11T21:59:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-07-11T23:22:50.539-05:00</updated><title type='text'>big big news!</title><content type='html'>where do i begin??&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;okay, so today i just got back from visiting lucy (who lives about two hours away).&lt;br /&gt;lisa and i went to visit her since she hasn't been down to visit us in a while.&lt;br /&gt;we left on a wednesday afternoon.&lt;br /&gt;lucy and lisa were the people i've been wanting to come out to for such a long time. &lt;br /&gt;it did cross my mind that i might come out some time during this three day trip.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;when we arrived on wednesday, we all went out to eat. we had such a good time. in my head, i kept thinking if i should come out to them during this trip or not. when we got back to lucy's place, we all were sitting around the tv watching a movie. while the movie was playing, i think i kinda talked myself out of coming out during this trip. i figured i should stop worrying about something that wasn't going to happen...or so i thought.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;well, the next day we were all supposed to go out to a bar or club and drink. however, lisa was short on cash and suggested we go to a liquor store and buy some alcohol and just take it back to lucy's place and play drinking games and whatnot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;sidenote: i'm not much of a drinker. usually i drink socially when i'm around friends or at a restaurant. the few times that i do drink, the alcohol hits me really, really fast. i'm such a lightweight...hahaha! but yeah, i'm usually a really giggly drunk.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;after buying the alcohol, we head back to lucy's place. we begin the night with a toast of cheap champagne. two margaritas later, i'm really feeling the alcohol hit me. instead of playing games, we're drinking and watching tv and talking. &lt;br /&gt;lisa made another drink and we all did a few shots. so by this time, as you can imagine, i hardly remember what was happening. although, i vaguely remember that the conversation turned to girls. it's because by this time lisa was on the internet showing us what kind of girls she thinks are hot. &lt;br /&gt;(in case you didn't know/forgot, lisa is bi)&lt;br /&gt;so she shows me the girl on the laptop screen for my opinion. i'm not sure if i said anything or just agreed. then they started asking me my type of girl. this is all really foggy in my memory, but i think they were asking if i like big boobs or small boobs, a big butt or small butt.&lt;br /&gt;the next thing i know is that i just start crying! i didn't even realize it at first. i actually think i startled the both of them because it may have seemed like the tears came out of nowhere. &lt;br /&gt;they came next to me and asked what's wrong.  i think i denied anything was wrong, but obviously that wasn't going to fool them. i was in tears afterall!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the next thing i remeber is asking if we can all go to lucy's bedroom so we can talk. they helped me up and to her room. we were all on the bed. i couldn't stop crying and they continued asking me what's wrong. i figured this was going to be the time.&lt;br /&gt;there was no turning back now. i had to tell them.&lt;br /&gt;i started trying to talk, but i just could not do it!!!&lt;br /&gt;finally, i managed to talk and say, "there's something that i've been wanting to tell you for such a long time, but i never could."&lt;br /&gt;then i started crying some more.&lt;br /&gt;while sobbing, i said, "i just can't do it. i think y'all know what i'm trying to say. will you just ask me?"&lt;br /&gt;i heard lucy's voice, "you don't want to say it? you want me to ask you?"&lt;br /&gt;i nodded with my face pressed against the pillow as i continued to cry.&lt;br /&gt;she resumed, "okay...[mr. x] are you gay?"&lt;br /&gt;i nodded again with my face still in the pillow. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;their reaction was so great. &lt;br /&gt;i'm not sure who said what, but some of the things they said were:&lt;br /&gt;"you're still the same person you always were."&lt;br /&gt;"we love you so much."&lt;br /&gt;"you're still our friend and nothing's going to change that."&lt;br /&gt;"you have nothing to worry about."&lt;br /&gt;then i remember telling them how much i love them and giving them soo many hugs.&lt;br /&gt;lisa grabbed my hand and started asking me if i felt so much better. she said she knows exactly how it feels. &lt;br /&gt;she started telling me how she remembers being so scared the first time she admitted it to herself and then to the first person she told. it was so good having her there since she could really relate to what i was feeling.&lt;br /&gt;i told them how i had always wanted to tell my family first and then my friends, but i don't think i could do it.&lt;br /&gt;it was then that lisa told me, "it's so much harder to tell the people that you really care about."&lt;br /&gt;that is so true, but so weird. of course i knew lisa and lucy would be so supportive, but it was just so hard to bring it up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so that's my big news! i'm slowly opening that closet door!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://s250.photobucket.com/albums/gg250/mariapiaduran/?action=view&amp;current=armariosalircolores.gif" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i250.photobucket.com/albums/gg250/mariapiaduran/armariosalircolores.gif" border="0" alt="coming out salir del armario orgullo gay"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;well, later i'll post more of how the trip went after i came out.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6035536362934730183-232944389055128555?l=openingthecloset.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://openingthecloset.blogspot.com/feeds/232944389055128555/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6035536362934730183&amp;postID=232944389055128555&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6035536362934730183/posts/default/232944389055128555'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6035536362934730183/posts/default/232944389055128555'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://openingthecloset.blogspot.com/2008/07/big-big-news.html' title='big big news!'/><author><name>Mr. X</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14400246646936806226</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6035536362934730183.post-883560922537548320</id><published>2008-07-02T14:53:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-07-02T14:59:14.539-05:00</updated><title type='text'>music</title><content type='html'>after wanting it for such a long time, i finally bought mika's CD- life in cartoon motion.&lt;br /&gt;it's just a fun CD. &lt;br /&gt;i've been listening to it all day today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://s230.photobucket.com/albums/ee243/kmaty89/music%20icons/?action=view&amp;current=m22.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i230.photobucket.com/albums/ee243/kmaty89/music%20icons/m22.jpg" border="0" alt="mika"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6035536362934730183-883560922537548320?l=openingthecloset.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://openingthecloset.blogspot.com/feeds/883560922537548320/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6035536362934730183&amp;postID=883560922537548320&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6035536362934730183/posts/default/883560922537548320'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6035536362934730183/posts/default/883560922537548320'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://openingthecloset.blogspot.com/2008/07/music.html' title='music'/><author><name>Mr. X</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14400246646936806226</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://i230.photobucket.com/albums/ee243/kmaty89/music%20icons/th_m22.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6035536362934730183.post-1602166043952847984</id><published>2008-06-29T00:13:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-06-29T00:16:32.340-05:00</updated><title type='text'>hermit</title><content type='html'>lately i've been feeling like a hermit crab. :(&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://s171.photobucket.com/albums/u281/lu_ma_lee/?action=view&amp;current=crab.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i171.photobucket.com/albums/u281/lu_ma_lee/crab.jpg" border="0" alt="hermit crab"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6035536362934730183-1602166043952847984?l=openingthecloset.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://openingthecloset.blogspot.com/feeds/1602166043952847984/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6035536362934730183&amp;postID=1602166043952847984&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6035536362934730183/posts/default/1602166043952847984'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6035536362934730183/posts/default/1602166043952847984'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://openingthecloset.blogspot.com/2008/06/hermit.html' title='hermit'/><author><name>Mr. X</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14400246646936806226</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6035536362934730183.post-67721279709962610</id><published>2008-06-14T00:05:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-06-14T00:11:37.394-05:00</updated><title type='text'>boring...</title><content type='html'>sorry for the lack of updates lately.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;nothing exciting has been going on. i'm taking summer school and still working.&lt;br /&gt;i was hoping for some eye candy in my summer school class, but it's like 80% girls. &lt;br /&gt;there's about 30 people in the class and i think there's only like 6 guys.&lt;br /&gt;oh well.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6035536362934730183-67721279709962610?l=openingthecloset.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://openingthecloset.blogspot.com/feeds/67721279709962610/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6035536362934730183&amp;postID=67721279709962610&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6035536362934730183/posts/default/67721279709962610'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6035536362934730183/posts/default/67721279709962610'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://openingthecloset.blogspot.com/2008/06/boring.html' title='boring...'/><author><name>Mr. X</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14400246646936806226</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6035536362934730183.post-3718886492618434296</id><published>2008-05-31T11:03:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-05-31T11:32:47.235-05:00</updated><title type='text'>touched</title><content type='html'>yesterday i booked an appointment to get my haircut.&lt;br /&gt;i checked in and sat down.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;at the place i go to, they have assistants that call your name and take you to the back to wash your hair. when they finish, they take you to the haircutter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;well, as i was waiting on the chair, i hear my named being called. it's being called from a guy.&lt;br /&gt;every time i go, there have only been female assistants.&lt;br /&gt;i get up and he shakes my hand and says hi and asks me to follow him. immediately, i can tell he is gay.&lt;br /&gt;when we get to the sink, he asks me how i am.  i make eye contact and tell him i'm doing alright.&lt;br /&gt;i'm not sure, but he may have picked up  a few vibes from me. he says, that's good and i smile.&lt;br /&gt;he tells me to have a seat and he lowers my head into the sink. &lt;br /&gt;at this point i didn't know if i should make conversation or not, but being the chicken i am i sat quietly as he turned on the water.&lt;br /&gt;i didn't know what to do, so i just closed my eyes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;he wet my hair and then started lathering the shampoo. this was normal, but then he started massaging my head.&lt;br /&gt;they've never done this before. it's always a quick shampoo (sometimes conditioner) then it's over.&lt;br /&gt;but this guy started massaging around my temples and then lifted my head and was massaging my lower neck.&lt;br /&gt;it felt soooo good! &lt;br /&gt;then he rinsed my hair of all the shampoo and i thought that was going to be it since they don't always add conditioner. (weird, i know)&lt;br /&gt;but then i hear him pumping conditioner out of a bottle and he puts it in my hair and really massages it in there again. he was rubbing my neck again and it just felt really good. &lt;br /&gt;it just felt so good to be touched by a man. &lt;br /&gt;i know it's pretty sad, but that's the most intimate i've been with a guy, LOL!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;he rinsed it all out and towel dried my hair and told me to sit up and follow him so he could take me to the haircutter. he sat me down in the chair and i told him thank you.&lt;br /&gt;he said "no problem" and then he left to go wash somebody else's hair.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6035536362934730183-3718886492618434296?l=openingthecloset.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://openingthecloset.blogspot.com/feeds/3718886492618434296/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6035536362934730183&amp;postID=3718886492618434296&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6035536362934730183/posts/default/3718886492618434296'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6035536362934730183/posts/default/3718886492618434296'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://openingthecloset.blogspot.com/2008/05/touched.html' title='touched'/><author><name>Mr. X</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14400246646936806226</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6035536362934730183.post-7960030824732132563</id><published>2008-05-13T21:55:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2008-05-16T00:22:50.622-05:00</updated><title type='text'>shocked cont...</title><content type='html'>[continued from last entry...]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;he felt bad and said, "i'm sorry. we don't have to talk about this if you don't want to! pretend i didn't say anything!"&lt;br /&gt;i told him, "actually, no, i'm glad you brought this up. i've been wanting to talk to someone about it, but i just couldn't...i didn't know how."&lt;br /&gt;at this point i had realized that i had just come out for the very first time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;he asked what i wanted to talk about. still stunned, i asked him about his coming out to his parents and how that went.&lt;br /&gt;he told me that he isn't really that close to his family so he never told his dad.&lt;br /&gt;but he told his mom when he was upset because he like this guy who went to our school.&lt;br /&gt;he's been out since high school, which he said was rough at times. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;as he was talking, he went off on a tangent and caught himself.&lt;br /&gt;he asked if i wanted to go sit outside since we were finished with our meal and we could talk some more.&lt;br /&gt;we did.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the two of us sat on a bench and he asked me, "so, do you think you are bi or gay?"&lt;br /&gt;i replied by saying, "gay."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i have yet to say "i'm gay" which i think are going to be two of the hardest words to say to someone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;then we started talking about who we thought was hot or cute during high school.&lt;br /&gt;i have to admit, that was a lot of fun! &lt;br /&gt;for the first time in twenty-two years i was actually able to talk about guys!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;we sat talking for a couple of hours. it was great. i told him to let me know when he goes out to a gay club/bar and maybe i'll go along too. i hope i'll be able to make more gay friends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;honestly, i'm still in shocked that i've come out to him.  i seriously didn't think i would be coming out to anyone for several months from now. the only thing that is disappointing is that i haven't talked to him since that night.&lt;br /&gt;i've just now realized it's been a week since i've come out to him. it was last thursday night. it's my one week-aversary! lol.&lt;br /&gt;like i've mentioned before, we were never really close, close friends, but hopefully that will change and we'll start talking a lot more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the next person i hope to tell is lisa. &lt;br /&gt;i don't know when or how that is going to happen. i hope it's sometime soon.&lt;br /&gt;i'm ready to stop "hiding" from my friends and family.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6035536362934730183-7960030824732132563?l=openingthecloset.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://openingthecloset.blogspot.com/feeds/7960030824732132563/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6035536362934730183&amp;postID=7960030824732132563&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6035536362934730183/posts/default/7960030824732132563'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6035536362934730183/posts/default/7960030824732132563'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://openingthecloset.blogspot.com/2008/05/shocked-cont.html' title='shocked cont...'/><author><name>Mr. X</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14400246646936806226</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6035536362934730183.post-3095964738228110186</id><published>2008-05-13T21:15:00.007-05:00</published><updated>2008-05-13T21:56:44.992-05:00</updated><title type='text'>shocked!</title><content type='html'>okay, so this post has been WAY over due. i really wanted to update this the night it happened, but i didn't have the time.&lt;br /&gt;so here it goes:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it was lucy's 21st birthday last thursday so i was going to go visit. &lt;br /&gt;i wanted stay the night since she was going to have a party and then i would just come back home friday. she lives a few hours away. i was hoping lisa could go with me, but she couldn't. &lt;br /&gt;it turns out a bunch of people i know were NOT able to go. &lt;br /&gt;it was going to be all her "new" college friends that i've only met a few times. i didn't want to feel uncomfortable since i wasn't going to know anybody except her.  &lt;br /&gt;i told her that i would just go down there friday for lunch and drinks and it would be on me.&lt;br /&gt;i also told her that we could go out and celebrate with all our "old" friends next time she comes home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;since i was only going down there for lunch, i wanted to see if anyone wanted to come with me. lisa couldn't, so i called up &lt;a href="http://openingthecloset.blogspot.com/2008/03/thanks-guys.html"&gt;gabe&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;i hadn't talked to him since our last trip to lucy's. he said he couldn't go either because he had to work.&lt;br /&gt;before ending the conversation, i told him that we should hang out some time since it's been a while.  then he was like, "well, i'm not busy tonight. you want to go to dinner? "&lt;br /&gt;"sure!"&lt;br /&gt;then he told me to call lisa and see if she could go and he would call another friend of ours.&lt;br /&gt;so i figured it would be the four of us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i called lisa and she couldn't go. she had a major paper due the next day. gabe called me back and said our other friend never answered. so it was just going to be the two of us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;we met each other at the restaurant and he said one of his friends from work was going to meet us.&lt;br /&gt;i thought if it was the two of us, i might consider coming out. (the key word being "consider.") lol.&lt;br /&gt;however, since his friend showed up, i completely took that thought out of my mind. his friend was nice. she just ate an appetizer since she was waiting on her boyfriend to call her for dinner later.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;well, the boyfriend called her and she had to leave while gabe and i were finishing up our meal. she said bye and left.&lt;br /&gt;it was just gabe and i sitting across from each other. coming out was probably one of the last things on my mind until he brought up relationships.&lt;br /&gt;relationships! that's one of the things i try to avoid in conversations.&lt;br /&gt;he was talking about our friends' relationships and stuff, then he asks, "so what about you?"&lt;br /&gt;i was like, "well, i've been pretty busy with work and school and haven't really been looking for one."&lt;br /&gt;then he says, "hmmmm....so mr.x, do we need to find you a girlfriend?"&lt;br /&gt;i chuckle and then he proceeds with, "....or a..boyfriend?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i can't describe how i felt. i looked at him and kind of smiled and my body felt all tingly and i tried to say something, but didn't know what to say! i got all choked up and nearly cried, but didn't.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[to be continued...]&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6035536362934730183-3095964738228110186?l=openingthecloset.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://openingthecloset.blogspot.com/feeds/3095964738228110186/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6035536362934730183&amp;postID=3095964738228110186&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6035536362934730183/posts/default/3095964738228110186'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6035536362934730183/posts/default/3095964738228110186'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://openingthecloset.blogspot.com/2008/05/shocked.html' title='shocked!'/><author><name>Mr. X</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14400246646936806226</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6035536362934730183.post-1569661207737909271</id><published>2008-05-08T23:59:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-05-13T21:44:22.094-05:00</updated><title type='text'>OUT?</title><content type='html'>oh... my... gosh!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i just got home and i need to wake up super early tomorrow.&lt;br /&gt;i'll write a blog entry hopefully soon when i have more time!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6035536362934730183-1569661207737909271?l=openingthecloset.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://openingthecloset.blogspot.com/feeds/1569661207737909271/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6035536362934730183&amp;postID=1569661207737909271&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6035536362934730183/posts/default/1569661207737909271'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6035536362934730183/posts/default/1569661207737909271'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://openingthecloset.blogspot.com/2008/05/out.html' title='OUT?'/><author><name>Mr. X</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14400246646936806226</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6035536362934730183.post-6149725681068256528</id><published>2008-05-04T23:37:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-05-04T23:40:30.455-05:00</updated><title type='text'>argh...</title><content type='html'>this whole "being in the closet" thing is becoming really depressing, &lt;br /&gt;especially when i see people younger than me in relationships. &lt;br /&gt;i wish i had a boyfriend.&lt;br /&gt;*sigh*&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6035536362934730183-6149725681068256528?l=openingthecloset.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://openingthecloset.blogspot.com/feeds/6149725681068256528/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6035536362934730183&amp;postID=6149725681068256528&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6035536362934730183/posts/default/6149725681068256528'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6035536362934730183/posts/default/6149725681068256528'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://openingthecloset.blogspot.com/2008/05/argh.html' title='argh...'/><author><name>Mr. X</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14400246646936806226</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6035536362934730183.post-5297030466679891358</id><published>2008-04-16T23:51:00.006-05:00</published><updated>2008-04-17T21:36:10.425-05:00</updated><title type='text'>akward moments</title><content type='html'>opening the fridge, i pull out my sandwich and water and sit down at a table in the company break room.&lt;br /&gt;three other women scattered about the room are eating lunches of their own. &lt;br /&gt;the television is on, but no one is focused on it. the news is merely noise in the background.&lt;br /&gt;the air is warm and stale. the air conditioner must be broken.&lt;br /&gt;reaching into my pocket, i pull out my cell phone and set it on the table to keep the time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;suddenly, the door flings open and hits the wall. the loud sound causes me to jump in my seat.&lt;br /&gt;i turn around to see who it is. it's one of the managers.&lt;br /&gt;she walks in with a friendly smile.&lt;br /&gt;"hi, how are y'all?"&lt;br /&gt;her loud presence presence changes the energy in the room.&lt;br /&gt;nobody answers directly, but instead, we give her a nod or a smile.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;her loud footsteps travel to the shelf where she picks up her can of peanuts. she sets them on a table and sits down.&lt;br /&gt;"so what's everybody watching?"&lt;br /&gt;one of the ladies says, "nothing...you can change it if you want."&lt;br /&gt;the once ignored t.v. becomes the center of attention.&lt;br /&gt;she doesn't change it. it's the end of a pet food commercial.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the news comes back on.  the news anchor is introducing a reporter on location at some sporting event, but the subject of it is about cheerleaders. apparently they are having some sort of upcoming cheerleading tryouts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the camera man zooms onto two girls cheering as they kick their legs up and down.&lt;br /&gt;being the only guy, i begin to feel akward because i'm expected to be oogling these sparsely dressed girls.&lt;br /&gt;obviously, it does nothing for me. i pick up my phone and pretend i received a text.&lt;br /&gt;i don't want to stare making it seem like i'm interested, but i don't want to totally ignore it.&lt;br /&gt;the camera is still on these girls, but now they've zoomed in on their moving hips.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i hear my manager's loud sarcastic voice, "i guess that's all you have to do to be a cheerleader!"&lt;br /&gt;after hearing her, i look up at the screen because i'm curious as to what they're doing now.&lt;br /&gt;as i look up, i feel all the women looking at me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;now i feel more akward because they are probably thinking, "typical boy. just eyeing those girls."&lt;br /&gt;even if it's not true, it's what i'm thinking.&lt;br /&gt;i feel my face heating up. &lt;br /&gt;it sure is warm in here.&lt;br /&gt;the quiet room is once more interupted by my manager, "look! mr. x's face is all red! hahaha."&lt;br /&gt;oh geez.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href="http://s154.photobucket.com/albums/s278/cheerchick95_2007/icons/?action=view&amp;current=animatedcheerleader_.gif" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i154.photobucket.com/albums/s278/cheerchick95_2007/icons/animatedcheerleader_.gif" border="0" alt="CHEER"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6035536362934730183-5297030466679891358?l=openingthecloset.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://openingthecloset.blogspot.com/feeds/5297030466679891358/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6035536362934730183&amp;postID=5297030466679891358&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6035536362934730183/posts/default/5297030466679891358'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6035536362934730183/posts/default/5297030466679891358'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://openingthecloset.blogspot.com/2008/04/akward-moments.html' title='akward moments'/><author><name>Mr. X</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14400246646936806226</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://i154.photobucket.com/albums/s278/cheerchick95_2007/icons/th_animatedcheerleader_.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6035536362934730183.post-7228337822211774304</id><published>2008-04-01T21:34:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2008-04-01T21:40:19.946-05:00</updated><title type='text'>out!</title><content type='html'>guess what happened today?!&lt;br /&gt;it was totally unexpected and just kind of happened!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i'll give you a minute to guess.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;go on, guess!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;give up?&lt;br /&gt;huh, do ya, do ya??&lt;br /&gt;you've probably guessed it by now, right??&lt;br /&gt;are you saying to your self, &lt;br /&gt;mr. x is finally out??&lt;br /&gt;well, i'd say you were right, but instead i'd&lt;br /&gt;have to tell you: april's fools! haha. yeah...everything you just read did not happen.&lt;br /&gt;actually today was very uneventful and i'm probably not even close to coming out any time soon.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6035536362934730183-7228337822211774304?l=openingthecloset.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://openingthecloset.blogspot.com/feeds/7228337822211774304/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6035536362934730183&amp;postID=7228337822211774304&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6035536362934730183/posts/default/7228337822211774304'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6035536362934730183/posts/default/7228337822211774304'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://openingthecloset.blogspot.com/2008/04/out.html' title='out!'/><author><name>Mr. X</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14400246646936806226</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6035536362934730183.post-5818126946601139255</id><published>2008-03-29T16:03:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-03-29T16:10:39.597-05:00</updated><title type='text'>bowling</title><content type='html'>i forgot how much fun bowling is.&lt;br /&gt;i went last night with lisa and some of her friends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;before we met up with her friends, the two of us "practiced" using her wii.&lt;br /&gt;haha. &lt;br /&gt;that was my second time playing on a wii. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;we played  two hours of wii sports and two and a half hours of real bowling.&lt;br /&gt;that probably explains why i woke up pretty sore.&lt;br /&gt;lol.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://s118.photobucket.com/albums/o90/uberskills/Collected_Icons/More%20Collected%20Icons/?action=view&amp;current=bowling.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i118.photobucket.com/albums/o90/uberskills/Collected_Icons/More%20Collected%20Icons/bowling.jpg" border="0" alt="Bowling Pins"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6035536362934730183-5818126946601139255?l=openingthecloset.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://openingthecloset.blogspot.com/feeds/5818126946601139255/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6035536362934730183&amp;postID=5818126946601139255&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6035536362934730183/posts/default/5818126946601139255'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6035536362934730183/posts/default/5818126946601139255'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://openingthecloset.blogspot.com/2008/03/bowling.html' title='bowling'/><author><name>Mr. X</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14400246646936806226</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6035536362934730183.post-6659389932481849577</id><published>2008-03-18T23:50:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-03-19T00:21:19.316-05:00</updated><title type='text'>i'd buy you a drink</title><content type='html'>standing there at my register, i'm approached by a guy and a girl.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;in my head, i think to myself, 'they're probably a couple. boo! too bad he's not gay. he's cute.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i tell them hello.&lt;br /&gt;i ring up his two items, a package of socks and a tie.&lt;br /&gt;as i'm doing this, they continue their conversation from earler.&lt;br /&gt;guy: "so yeah, you should have flirted with the bartender. he would have definately given you free drinks."&lt;br /&gt;girl: "*laughs* i guess i could have. that would have saved us some money. &lt;br /&gt;next time we go out you'll have to flirt for your drinks and get them free!"&lt;br /&gt;guy: "heh...yeah right. maybe if i went to a gay bar i'd be able to get away with that."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;while putting his things into a bag, i felt myself smirk.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i wanted to say, &lt;br /&gt; "that's for sure! i'd buy you a drink." &lt;br /&gt;HAHAHA!!&lt;br /&gt;yeah right, like that would ever happen. i'm way too shy for that!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;instead, i gave him his change and receipt and said, "have a nice day."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href="http://s29.photobucket.com/albums/c283/imapunksowht/Icons/icons/?action=view&amp;current=martini.gif" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i29.photobucket.com/albums/c283/imapunksowht/Icons/icons/martini.gif" border="0" alt="Martini"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6035536362934730183-6659389932481849577?l=openingthecloset.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://openingthecloset.blogspot.com/feeds/6659389932481849577/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6035536362934730183&amp;postID=6659389932481849577&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6035536362934730183/posts/default/6659389932481849577'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6035536362934730183/posts/default/6659389932481849577'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://openingthecloset.blogspot.com/2008/03/id-buy-you-drink.html' title='i&apos;d buy you a drink'/><author><name>Mr. X</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14400246646936806226</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6035536362934730183.post-7769492569913073823</id><published>2008-03-15T00:00:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-03-15T00:06:02.940-05:00</updated><title type='text'>ken lee</title><content type='html'>i found this featured on perez hilton's website and it cracks me up everytime i watch it.&lt;br /&gt;seriously.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;this is from bulgaria's show 'music idol.'&lt;br /&gt;the contestant is singing mariah carey's song "without you."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="355"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/FQt-h753jHI&amp;hl=en"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/FQt-h753jHI&amp;hl=en" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="355"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6035536362934730183-7769492569913073823?l=openingthecloset.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://openingthecloset.blogspot.com/feeds/7769492569913073823/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6035536362934730183&amp;postID=7769492569913073823&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6035536362934730183/posts/default/7769492569913073823'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6035536362934730183/posts/default/7769492569913073823'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://openingthecloset.blogspot.com/2008/03/ken-lee.html' title='ken lee'/><author><name>Mr. X</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14400246646936806226</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6035536362934730183.post-6131181452158958453</id><published>2008-03-07T22:03:00.005-06:00</published><updated>2008-03-14T23:13:13.237-05:00</updated><title type='text'>thanks guys!</title><content type='html'>thanks so much for all the great bday comments! each one meant a lot to me.&lt;br /&gt;y'all also gave me a lot of great advice.  &lt;br /&gt;it's times like these when i'm glad i have this blog and am able to get such positive feedback.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so last weekend i went to lucy's because she was having a party.&lt;br /&gt;it was really small. just a few of her friends. lisa couldn't go because she was visiting her bf.&lt;br /&gt;instead of carpooling with lisa, i carpooled with another friend of ours.&lt;br /&gt;let's call him gabe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;gabe is openly gay. he's been a friend of mine since high school, but since high school, we never really hung out much.&lt;br /&gt;when we would, it was always on occasion and would always be with a group of my friends.&lt;br /&gt;this was the first time it was just him and i alone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;lucy's place is about 2 hours away. so we just chatted about a bunch of random things.&lt;br /&gt;it was actually kind of nice because i felt like i was actually comfortable being around him and didn't have to worry about being "gay." &lt;br /&gt;he said he didn't get to watch the first half of the season finale of project runway and i told him i really like that show and that i got to see it. &lt;br /&gt;we talked about who we thought would win and who we liked and didn't like.&lt;br /&gt;(yeah, i watch it! my favorites throughout were christian and jillian, although, i'll admit i didn't care for christian too much in the begining. he grew on me.)&lt;br /&gt;normally, i wouldn't talk about PR that because i don't think that many straight guys actually watch it unless it's for the "hot" model girls. lol.&lt;br /&gt;anyways, in a way, i was hoping he would start getting a sense that maybe i might actually be gay, but i  still had my guard up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;he had a bunch of mixed CDs to listen to. i was ejecting one of them and pushing the 'load' button. &lt;br /&gt;then i said, "okay, go ahead, stick it in."&lt;br /&gt;he laughed and said something like, "haha, you're dirty."&lt;br /&gt;i laughed and just shrugged my shoulders.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;we're both mutual friends with lisa and started talking about her "bi phase." he said that a lot of his friends seemed to be gay.&lt;br /&gt;him: "it's not a bad thing, but it seems like now a lot of my friends are coming out. sometimes i wonder, who else is gay??"&lt;br /&gt;when he said this, my mind was racing a thousand miles a minute.&lt;br /&gt;was this a genuine question out of curiousity?&lt;br /&gt;was this directed at me?&lt;br /&gt;does he think i'm gay?&lt;br /&gt;should i tell him?&lt;br /&gt;am i really about to come out?&lt;br /&gt;ahh!&lt;br /&gt;uhh...&lt;br /&gt;what do i say?&lt;br /&gt;so after a few moments, which really seemed like minutes, i just replied, &lt;br /&gt;"mmmm, i dunno."&lt;br /&gt;then i think i asked who was singing the particular song on his CD to change the subject, lol.&lt;br /&gt;i think i was being paranoid, and maybe he was really just curious and asking the question rhetorically.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;cut to us arriving at lucy's.&lt;br /&gt;nothing out of the ordinary. said hi. hung out. went to dinner.&lt;br /&gt;this was friday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;saturday:&lt;br /&gt;this was the night of the party. &lt;br /&gt;we got up. went to lunch. went back to lucy's. &lt;br /&gt;gabe suggested we all go to the mall, but lucy said she had to clean up a bit and said him and i should go.&lt;br /&gt;so we did.&lt;br /&gt;it was interesting i guess because this was the closest thing to me being out, in a way.&lt;br /&gt;gabe is pretty flamboyant and wears girl's oversized sunglasses and carries a 'murse.' lol.&lt;br /&gt;so it was just him and i walking through the mall together and i couldn't help but think the whole time,&lt;br /&gt;"are people looking at us differently? do they think we could be a couple? do people think i'm gay?"&lt;br /&gt;yeah, yeah, yeah...call me paranoid.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;anyways, we went into a store and he wanted to try something on. so he starts heading to the fitting room, stops, turns around, and asks me to hold his man bag. &lt;br /&gt;so there i am in the gap looking at clothes holding a man bag. lol!&lt;br /&gt;i was just thinking, this is so not me!&lt;br /&gt;when i do come out, i won't be a murse kind of guy. i wasn't sure how i should carry it. i didn't know if i should "wear" it or just hold it.&lt;br /&gt;i decided to just hold it. &lt;br /&gt;i was there looking at clothes near the fitting rooms waiting on him. he comes out and asks, "how does this look?"&lt;br /&gt;there was a female gap employee there looking at us and i started thinking, "hmm, i wonder if she thinks we are together."&lt;br /&gt;lol.&lt;br /&gt;yeah, it was an interesting experience, but not in a bad way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so yeah, i never did come out the whole trip. honestly, i didn't think i would.&lt;br /&gt;honestly, i don't know under what circumstances i will come out. i know people say come out when you are ready, but for some reason, i never feel ready! hahaha. i wish my family or good friends would just ask me. it's so much easier to say, "yes, i am."&lt;br /&gt;i've made a personal goal to at least tell one person on national coming out day if i'm not out to anyone by then. i'm just not sure who it's going to be. i felt comfortable talking to gabe on the way back home. when i dropped him off, we told each other that we need to hang out more since we live so close to each other. i think i would feel comfortable eventually telling him only because he knows what it's like. he's probably experienced everything i'm feeling.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i don't see him as boyfriend material. he's really not my type. but i do see him as being a good gay friend where we might go out or something, which is what i really want. &lt;br /&gt;i want some gay friends! &lt;br /&gt;i just don't know how to find any, lol.&lt;br /&gt;so maybe if we start hanging out more, i'll meet some? i dunno.&lt;br /&gt;haha. &lt;br /&gt;sorry this was so long.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6035536362934730183-6131181452158958453?l=openingthecloset.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://openingthecloset.blogspot.com/feeds/6131181452158958453/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6035536362934730183&amp;postID=6131181452158958453&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6035536362934730183/posts/default/6131181452158958453'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6035536362934730183/posts/default/6131181452158958453'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://openingthecloset.blogspot.com/2008/03/thanks-guys.html' title='thanks guys!'/><author><name>Mr. X</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14400246646936806226</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6035536362934730183.post-8989203350961044706</id><published>2008-02-27T22:28:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2008-02-27T22:32:39.383-06:00</updated><title type='text'>happy birthday!</title><content type='html'>happy birthday to me!&lt;br /&gt;:)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;yup, it's my birthday today!&lt;br /&gt;i've been telling myself that i want to come out around my birthday, but at the current moment i feel so far from coming out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;sometimes i have those days where i just want to yell and scream, "i'm gay!" and be done with it.&lt;br /&gt;then there's days where i think i'll never come out and it makes me sad.&lt;br /&gt;there is also all the feelings inbetween.&lt;br /&gt;argh...only time will tell.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6035536362934730183-8989203350961044706?l=openingthecloset.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://openingthecloset.blogspot.com/feeds/8989203350961044706/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6035536362934730183&amp;postID=8989203350961044706&amp;isPopup=true' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6035536362934730183/posts/default/8989203350961044706'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6035536362934730183/posts/default/8989203350961044706'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://openingthecloset.blogspot.com/2008/02/happy-birthday.html' title='happy birthday!'/><author><name>Mr. X</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14400246646936806226</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6035536362934730183.post-3336120923388871061</id><published>2008-02-21T22:52:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2008-02-21T22:59:59.237-06:00</updated><title type='text'>b-b-blog!</title><content type='html'>oh blog, how i've missed you so.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;too bad, i have nothing interesting to talk about.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;oh, actually, i guess i do. &lt;br /&gt;it doesn't have to do with me, but it's about lisa and her boyfriend.&lt;br /&gt;so since the last time i updated, i mentioned how they are back together.&lt;br /&gt;well, her bf told me a few days ago that he is going to propose to her!&lt;br /&gt;i hope everything goes okay. i wish them the best, we'll see how that goes.&lt;br /&gt;he is supposedly  asking her sometime next week and she has know idea.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;in other news, my puppy now knows three tricks!&lt;br /&gt;he can sit, lie down, and shake.&lt;br /&gt;i'm so proud! :)&lt;br /&gt;lol!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6035536362934730183-3336120923388871061?l=openingthecloset.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://openingthecloset.blogspot.com/feeds/3336120923388871061/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6035536362934730183&amp;postID=3336120923388871061&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6035536362934730183/posts/default/3336120923388871061'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6035536362934730183/posts/default/3336120923388871061'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://openingthecloset.blogspot.com/2008/02/b-b-blog.html' title='b-b-blog!'/><author><name>Mr. X</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14400246646936806226</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6035536362934730183.post-4885910919028117386</id><published>2008-02-08T13:43:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-02-08T13:52:02.558-06:00</updated><title type='text'>silence</title><content type='html'>lisa came over today to play with my new puppy.&lt;br /&gt;we didn't do much talking at first. it was more of laughing and watching puppy play.&lt;br /&gt;then i kind of brought up the situation about her and gina.&lt;br /&gt;i asked how her weekend went. &lt;br /&gt;her answers were short and vague.&lt;br /&gt;"it was okay. there was drama."&lt;br /&gt;she didn't elaborate. i didn't know if i should have asked more, but i didn't want to seem nosy.&lt;br /&gt;then she mentioned how she was going to go see her bf.&lt;br /&gt;me: "oh, so you and bf are back together?"&lt;br /&gt;"..yeah."&lt;br /&gt;[akward silence]&lt;br /&gt;then she the subject got changed by  laughing at puppy doing something funny.&lt;br /&gt;it was pretty akward for me, so i'm sure it was akward for her.&lt;br /&gt;it just didn't feel right to bring up anything else at that moment. *sigh*&lt;br /&gt;i wanted to ask her if she still felt feelings to girls in general or if it was just gina in particular.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6035536362934730183-4885910919028117386?l=openingthecloset.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://openingthecloset.blogspot.com/feeds/4885910919028117386/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6035536362934730183&amp;postID=4885910919028117386&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6035536362934730183/posts/default/4885910919028117386'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6035536362934730183/posts/default/4885910919028117386'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://openingthecloset.blogspot.com/2008/02/silence.html' title='silence'/><author><name>Mr. X</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14400246646936806226</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6035536362934730183.post-8553660473689395097</id><published>2008-02-07T22:25:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-02-07T23:03:41.918-06:00</updated><title type='text'>"break-up"</title><content type='html'>two weekends ago was lisa's birthday...her 21st birthday.&lt;br /&gt;lol.&lt;br /&gt;okay, a quick recap about lisa:&lt;br /&gt;she's one of my best friends, she lives near me (she didn't move away for college),&lt;br /&gt;and she came out to her boyfriend as bisexual-she didn't tell me and didn't know that her boyfriend told me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;okay, let's cut to her birthday night.&lt;br /&gt;we went out to eat and things were obviously akward between her and her bf, but no one really knew why.&lt;br /&gt;well, i knew because her bf told me more info.&lt;br /&gt;she came out as bi, but she also said that she had a crush on her high school friend. this high school friend is gay and came out during high school. lisa told her bf that she had always had feelings towards her, but denied them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;this high school friend was there that night. lisa and bf decided to have a "break."&lt;br /&gt;at the restaurant, nobody knew any of this. nobody knew she was bi curious or that her relationship was on a break.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;well, after dinner, we go to a club. her bf rides with me. his excuse is that he is "giving me directions" to get there. she rides with other people.&lt;br /&gt;well, in the car, he tell me that she knows i know. he told her he told me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so we get to club, and of course, she becomes drunk-everyone's buying her drinks...she's 21! haha.&lt;br /&gt;well, that's when the drama starts! man, oh man, talk about drama!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;a group of us were sitting down talking over drinks when all of a suddden we see lisa dart towards the exit in tears.&lt;br /&gt;lucy goes to see what's wrong.&lt;br /&gt;i go look for her bf. he's silent, but in tears. he won't talk.&lt;br /&gt;finally, he mangages to say, "i loved her. i loved her so much."&lt;br /&gt;"what happened?"&lt;br /&gt;"she's wants a relationship with 'high school crush' (let's call her gina). it's over."&lt;br /&gt;he's obviously drunk making him that much more emotional. &lt;br /&gt;"X, i was going to buy her a ring. she's the one i wanted to marry."&lt;br /&gt;i put my arm around him and tried to comfort him, saying that they were both drunk. that they needed to talk the next morning when they were sober.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so by this time, everyone is wondering what is going on. about 45 mins later, lisa comes back in. i see her telling people in their ears (bc the music is so loud). i hear partial words from where i'm at. i hear her say "i'm a lesbian." &lt;br /&gt;she never came and told me personally though. i felt kinda disappointed. i wish she would have told me herself. i know she didn't tell me because she figured i already knew since her "bf" already told me. but still, i wanted to hear it from her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so that was the night she came out to her close friends. it was a pretty emotional-drama filled night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;cut to last weekend:&lt;br /&gt;gina is going to school a few hours away. so lisa decided to go visit her for the weekend. &lt;br /&gt;i found out through lucy that things didn't go too well btwn her and gina.&lt;br /&gt;gina still lives with her ex-gf and they were kinda touchy feely still. this upset lisa big time.&lt;br /&gt;as of now, lucy tells me that lisa since then, called up her ex bf and they did a lot of talking and now they are back together.&lt;br /&gt;lucy tells me that she is confused and doesn't know if she is really happy being with her bf.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i feel so bad for her. i'm sure she is super confused. i want to talk to her about all of this, but she's never brought it up with me. i'm going to see her tmrw. she's actually coming to see my new puppy. &lt;br /&gt;maybe i'll try to bring it up. i just want to tell her that she needs to do what she feels is right.&lt;br /&gt;i have a feeling that she really is gay, but got back with her bf because she feels "safe" with him. i don't want his heart broken, but i want lisa to be happy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;if i bring it up tmrw,&lt;br /&gt; i might even come out to her. &lt;br /&gt;i want to come out to her because we now have so much in common-the confusion, the frustration, being scared, having been in denial for so long, etc.&lt;br /&gt;*sigh*&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6035536362934730183-8553660473689395097?l=openingthecloset.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://openingthecloset.blogspot.com/feeds/8553660473689395097/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6035536362934730183&amp;postID=8553660473689395097&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6035536362934730183/posts/default/8553660473689395097'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6035536362934730183/posts/default/8553660473689395097'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://openingthecloset.blogspot.com/2008/02/break-up.html' title='&quot;break-up&quot;'/><author><name>Mr. X</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14400246646936806226</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6035536362934730183.post-4392267813967053813</id><published>2008-02-04T22:44:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-02-04T22:47:02.381-06:00</updated><title type='text'>busy</title><content type='html'>wow, it's been too long since my last post.&lt;br /&gt;i have an entry that i have in mind for next time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;however, i've just been pretty busy now that the new school semester just started.&lt;br /&gt;plus, i got a new puppy!&lt;br /&gt;he's in his teething stage and man, oh man is he biting everything!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6035536362934730183-4392267813967053813?l=openingthecloset.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://openingthecloset.blogspot.com/feeds/4392267813967053813/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6035536362934730183&amp;postID=4392267813967053813&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6035536362934730183/posts/default/4392267813967053813'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6035536362934730183/posts/default/4392267813967053813'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://openingthecloset.blogspot.com/2008/02/busy.html' title='busy'/><author><name>Mr. X</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14400246646936806226</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6035536362934730183.post-1651624274206548799</id><published>2008-01-21T12:50:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-01-21T13:31:02.995-06:00</updated><title type='text'>*speechless!!*</title><content type='html'>gosh, do i have BIG news!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i know what you're thinking....and no, i did not come out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...but someone i know did, but not to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;this morning i had three missed calls and one text.&lt;br /&gt;they were from last night. i didn't hear them because my phone was on silent.&lt;br /&gt;each call and text was from lisa's boyfriend. he didn't leave a voicemail, but his text said, &lt;br /&gt;"[mr.x] call me when you can. i need to talk about some personal stuff. it's really important!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;this morning, i texted him back and told him to call me whenever he wanted.&lt;br /&gt;a few minutes later he called me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;his voice was soft and emotional.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"hey, [mr. x]. um...how are you?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"i'm fine, but how are you? what's wrong?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"*big sigh* uh...it's lisa. her and i are having trouble in our relationship. i think this is the begining of the end of our relationship."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"why is that?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"well...i trust you and you're a really good friend, so don't tell her i told you, but she came out as bi to me yesterday."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i was completely speechless!! one of my good friends who i have been wanting to tell that *i* was gay was going through the same struggle with herself!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;he continued, "i just don't know what to do. she says she is wanting her space. i'm sure she's going to want to experiment with other girls. it hurts. we've been together for over a year and she is the first girl that i've ever fallen in love...like true love...like, i could see us being married."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it's true. this is the most serious i've seen him with a girl. he's had girlfriends before, but this relationship is the one that i've seen him actually fall in love.&lt;br /&gt;i really wish i had more to tell him, but i was in shock!&lt;br /&gt;everything she was telling him, i had experienced myself.&lt;br /&gt;he said that she was crying so much and telling him that she had denied her feelings even though she knew since middle school.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i told him to give her some time because this is such a big event in her life. she's scared and confused.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i'm actually still in some shock as i write this only because i just got off the phone and haven't had a lot of time to really think about it.&lt;br /&gt;i wonder what will happen. i really wish i could let her i know and let her know that i'm gay too.&lt;br /&gt;or maybe i'll wait until she comes out to me--if she comes out to me.&lt;br /&gt;would it be selfish to tell her i'm gay right after she tells me she's gay?&lt;br /&gt;i guess it wouldn't because we could talk about both of our situations/experiences.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;hmmm....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6035536362934730183-1651624274206548799?l=openingthecloset.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://openingthecloset.blogspot.com/feeds/1651624274206548799/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6035536362934730183&amp;postID=1651624274206548799&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6035536362934730183/posts/default/1651624274206548799'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6035536362934730183/posts/default/1651624274206548799'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://openingthecloset.blogspot.com/2008/01/speechless.html' title='*speechless!!*'/><author><name>Mr. X</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14400246646936806226</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6035536362934730183.post-170442534677025987</id><published>2008-01-19T21:05:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-01-19T21:26:27.789-06:00</updated><title type='text'>distractions?</title><content type='html'>i've mentioned that i work a part time job, but never where i work.&lt;br /&gt;i'm still not going to say where i work, but i'll say what i do.&lt;br /&gt;i'm a cashier.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;being a cashier, you get to meet so many kinds of people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;well, one day this older guy comes to my register.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i tell him hello and ask how he's doing.&lt;br /&gt;he says he's doing great.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;then he asks, "there's a lot of pretty girls that come in, huh?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i look at him and kind of smile and nod.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;he smiles back and says, "you must get distracted, right? i mean, if i worked didn't work in an office, i'd have so many distractions looking at all the girls."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"i wouldn't know...i'm too busy looking at the guys," is what i wanted to say, hahahaha.&lt;br /&gt;instead, i just smiled like i know what he's talking about and give a little shrug.&lt;br /&gt;he goes on to say, "all i do is work in an office, i don't get to see much there. it's all the same people."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;he was actually really nice and had great energy and a contagious smile. it turned out he was recently divorced and is a bachelor again. you could surely tell he was enjoying his "bachelorhood" and checking out all the ladies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;he seemed like a fun guy, it's just that he made me uncomfortable without knowing it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i'm curious what i would have done if i was out though.&lt;br /&gt; would i have done the same thing or would i actually have let him know i wasn't attracted to the girls?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;part of me thinks, i wouldn't have said anything only because i didn't know him and he doesn't need to know my personal life.&lt;br /&gt;hahaha.&lt;br /&gt;i'm curious as to what any of you would have done in my place. &lt;br /&gt;or for those that are out, have you had an experience like this &lt;br /&gt;and if so, what did you do?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6035536362934730183-170442534677025987?l=openingthecloset.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://openingthecloset.blogspot.com/feeds/170442534677025987/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6035536362934730183&amp;postID=170442534677025987&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6035536362934730183/posts/default/170442534677025987'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6035536362934730183/posts/default/170442534677025987'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://openingthecloset.blogspot.com/2008/01/distractions.html' title='distractions?'/><author><name>Mr. X</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14400246646936806226</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6035536362934730183.post-1999966387274004463</id><published>2008-01-12T23:49:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-01-13T00:16:37.678-06:00</updated><title type='text'>playboy</title><content type='html'>it was a long day at work. i was so tired so as soon as i got home, i went to my room.&lt;br /&gt;there on my bed was the mail my mom set down for me.&lt;br /&gt;i saw two things, but was not sure what they were.&lt;br /&gt;i picked them up. &lt;br /&gt;the first one was a bank statement.&lt;br /&gt;when i saw the next one, i didn't know what to do!&lt;br /&gt;it was a postcard type letter from playboy! HA!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://s29.photobucket.com/albums/c255/gogamerbrock/icons/?action=view&amp;current=Playboy.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i29.photobucket.com/albums/c255/gogamerbrock/icons/Playboy.jpg" border="0" alt="Playboy"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;uhh...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i was standing there holding this lettter with this skimpy-dressed girl on it.&lt;br /&gt;it had my full name on it and it was a letter letting me know i could get a discount or some sort of special for getting a yearly subscription. ....what?!&lt;br /&gt;where did they get my info from?!?!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;okay, so i'll admit that i've had a couple of playboy magazines before, but they were given to me from a friend.&lt;br /&gt;and let's just say i didn't use it the way he would have...if you know what i mean. &lt;br /&gt;let's just say, it was much more of a reading material than a "picture" magazine, hahaha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so, obviously, i'm not requesting for this stuff. i've never gotten a playboy advertisement before and i just found it pretty hilarious that i got one and my mom saw it and set it in my room. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but that's not it...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so a few minutes later, i go to the kitchen for some water and my mom asks, &lt;br /&gt;"did you get your mail?"&lt;br /&gt;"yeah."&lt;br /&gt;then she jokingly says, "there was something there for you." (obviously talking about the playboy thing)&lt;br /&gt;she goes on to say, "how did they get your name?"&lt;br /&gt;to which i reply, "uh...i actually have no idea, i haven't submitted my name to anything..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;hahaha...man, if my mom had any inclination that i was gay, i'm sure this threw her for a loop and confused her.&lt;br /&gt;this isn't what i would have wanted either. &lt;br /&gt;part of me hopes that on some level she knows i'm gay so it won't be such a big shock when i do come out (whenever that may be, lol).&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6035536362934730183-1999966387274004463?l=openingthecloset.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://openingthecloset.blogspot.com/feeds/1999966387274004463/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6035536362934730183&amp;postID=1999966387274004463&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6035536362934730183/posts/default/1999966387274004463'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6035536362934730183/posts/default/1999966387274004463'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://openingthecloset.blogspot.com/2008/01/playboy.html' title='playboy'/><author><name>Mr. X</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14400246646936806226</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://i29.photobucket.com/albums/c255/gogamerbrock/icons/th_Playboy.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6035536362934730183.post-1482207974620700126</id><published>2008-01-06T19:40:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-01-08T23:24:46.066-06:00</updated><title type='text'>the closet</title><content type='html'>i was standing next to my mom as i was talking to her.&lt;br /&gt;she was sitting down at her desk about to check her email on her laptop.&lt;br /&gt;as the aol welcome page loaded, i ended my conversation and was looking at the aol "headlines."&lt;br /&gt;she was reading them as they kept changing. &lt;br /&gt;then i heard her say, &lt;br /&gt;"are you afraid of the closet?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i think i froze for a really long second!&lt;br /&gt;only to be completely relieved when i heard, &lt;br /&gt;"ways to organize it and keep things in their place."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;whew!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;of course, being the paranoid person that i am, i immediately thought it was going to be an article or something to do with&lt;br /&gt;homosexuality and being in the "closet."&lt;br /&gt;talk about potential akwardness!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;hahahaha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://s30.photobucket.com/albums/c345/_elycia_/?action=view&amp;current=thththicondoorknob1.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i30.photobucket.com/albums/c345/_elycia_/thththicondoorknob1.jpg" border="0" alt="door"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6035536362934730183-1482207974620700126?l=openingthecloset.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://openingthecloset.blogspot.com/feeds/1482207974620700126/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6035536362934730183&amp;postID=1482207974620700126&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6035536362934730183/posts/default/1482207974620700126'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6035536362934730183/posts/default/1482207974620700126'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://openingthecloset.blogspot.com/2008/01/closet.html' title='the closet'/><author><name>Mr. X</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14400246646936806226</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6035536362934730183.post-2684645123558708114</id><published>2008-01-02T11:21:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2008-01-02T11:53:10.710-06:00</updated><title type='text'>relationships</title><content type='html'>i'm not the kind of guy who wants to "hook up" with a guy.&lt;br /&gt;i don't want to have a guy around only for the sex. &lt;br /&gt;just because i'm gay, doesn't mean &lt;br /&gt;all i want is a guy to have sex with.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;what i want is a relationship.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i want to be happy. &lt;br /&gt;i want to be with someone that i enjoy being around-&lt;br /&gt;someone who makes me feel special, someone who makes me smile, &lt;br /&gt;someone who makes me laugh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i want somebody who i can be myself around-my sillyness, corniness, &lt;br /&gt;randomness, and all.&lt;br /&gt;i want someone to curl up next to and watch movies with late at night, &lt;br /&gt;someone to hug and kiss every time i see him, someone to think about all the time.&lt;br /&gt;does he exist?&lt;br /&gt;where do i find him?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ha...i'm such a hopeless romantic.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://s153.photobucket.com/albums/s236/lissynay0003/Love%20and%20Relationship%20Icons/?action=view&amp;current=BytheSea.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i153.photobucket.com/albums/s236/lissynay0003/Love%20and%20Relationship%20Icons/BytheSea.jpg" border="0" alt="heart in the sand"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6035536362934730183-2684645123558708114?l=openingthecloset.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://openingthecloset.blogspot.com/feeds/2684645123558708114/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6035536362934730183&amp;postID=2684645123558708114&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6035536362934730183/posts/default/2684645123558708114'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6035536362934730183/posts/default/2684645123558708114'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://openingthecloset.blogspot.com/2008/01/relationships.html' title='relationships'/><author><name>Mr. X</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14400246646936806226</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://i153.photobucket.com/albums/s236/lissynay0003/Love%20and%20Relationship%20Icons/th_BytheSea.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6035536362934730183.post-4042395191109695594</id><published>2008-01-01T11:07:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-01-01T11:10:13.190-06:00</updated><title type='text'>2008</title><content type='html'>HAPPY NEW YEAR!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://s53.photobucket.com/albums/g53/jessika_strange/Icons/?action=view&amp;current=Fireworks.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i53.photobucket.com/albums/g53/jessika_strange/Icons/Fireworks.jpg" border="0" alt="Fireworks"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6035536362934730183-4042395191109695594?l=openingthecloset.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://openingthecloset.blogspot.com/feeds/4042395191109695594/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6035536362934730183&amp;postID=4042395191109695594&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6035536362934730183/posts/default/4042395191109695594'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6035536362934730183/posts/default/4042395191109695594'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://openingthecloset.blogspot.com/2008/01/2008.html' title='2008'/><author><name>Mr. X</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14400246646936806226</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://i53.photobucket.com/albums/g53/jessika_strange/Icons/th_Fireworks.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6035536362934730183.post-4651198657980233283</id><published>2007-12-20T23:18:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-12-20T23:50:53.893-06:00</updated><title type='text'>furniture</title><content type='html'>after having lunch with my mom and sister, we were on our way home.&lt;br /&gt; with all the traffic and construction going on, she passed the exit we needed to take on the freeway. this caused us to pass by a furniture store. &lt;br /&gt;my mom's been wanting to buy a new dining table, so we decided to go in and take a look.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;we ended up near the back of the store looking at one she liked. as we were discussing what we liked/didn't like about it, these two men walked up to look at the same table. i'm almost sure they were a couple. for some reason i got a little nervous, which i'm sure is because i'm stuck in the closet and totally paranoid!&lt;br /&gt;i know it sounds ridiculous, but i was thinking, "can they tell i'm gay?...is their gaydar going off?"&lt;br /&gt;lol. &lt;br /&gt;actually, it makes me laugh now. the closet sure is making me kinda crazy. hahaha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;well, anyway, i think another reason i was nervous is because i wasn't sure if my mom would start acting differently.&lt;br /&gt;i didn't know if she would react to them in anyway. i'm sure she noticed them, seeing as how we both looking at the same table, but i'm not sure if she realized they were a couple or not.&lt;br /&gt;they finally moved on to the next area. &lt;br /&gt;my mom didn't seem to react at all, which i think is a good thing.&lt;br /&gt;this could also mean that she didn't realize they were a couple...but who knows?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i've never really been in a situation like this with either of my parents (other than television), so i'm not really sure how they react to people who are gay. when watching tv and a gay character comes on, they don't really react differently, which is also a good thing. &lt;br /&gt;although, i must admit, i do become extremely paranoid.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6035536362934730183-4651198657980233283?l=openingthecloset.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://openingthecloset.blogspot.com/feeds/4651198657980233283/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6035536362934730183&amp;postID=4651198657980233283&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6035536362934730183/posts/default/4651198657980233283'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6035536362934730183/posts/default/4651198657980233283'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://openingthecloset.blogspot.com/2007/12/furniture.html' title='furniture'/><author><name>Mr. X</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14400246646936806226</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6035536362934730183.post-8383696832815804945</id><published>2007-12-15T20:44:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-12-15T20:45:01.803-06:00</updated><title type='text'>"i'm straight!"</title><content type='html'>"I know for a fact that straight people don't have the frustration and don't have the need to blurt out "I am straight". "&lt;br /&gt;-anonymous&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Also agree with the comment from Anonymous...why is it a big deal? Straight people don't have to proclaim they are straight, why should we?"&lt;br /&gt;-b&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;these were comments left by fellow blog readers and i couldn't agree more!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;after reading these comments, it made me think of a funny youtube video i had seen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;this particular video is performed by youtube star mathew lush aka gaygod. &lt;br /&gt;i guess it could be considered a spoof on coming out as a gay son to straight parents.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;he's gay in real life, &lt;br /&gt;but here, &lt;br /&gt;he's portraying a straight son with gay parents.&lt;br /&gt;in the beginning, he pretends to be gay, but wants to "comes out" as being straight to his parents and worried what they may think.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="373"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/EI6pzdPaEG4&amp;rel=0&amp;color1=0x234900&amp;color2=0x4e9e00&amp;border=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/EI6pzdPaEG4&amp;rel=0&amp;color1=0x234900&amp;color2=0x4e9e00&amp;border=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="373"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i'm sure many of you may have already seen this since it's been posted for a few months already. &lt;br /&gt;but for those of you who hadn't seen it, i thought i'd share it since it was kind of silly.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6035536362934730183-8383696832815804945?l=openingthecloset.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://openingthecloset.blogspot.com/feeds/8383696832815804945/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6035536362934730183&amp;postID=8383696832815804945&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6035536362934730183/posts/default/8383696832815804945'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6035536362934730183/posts/default/8383696832815804945'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://openingthecloset.blogspot.com/2007/12/im-straight_15.html' title='&quot;i&apos;m straight!&quot;'/><author><name>Mr. X</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14400246646936806226</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6035536362934730183.post-8662010867178106612</id><published>2007-12-11T00:36:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-12-11T00:47:52.489-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='youtube'/><title type='text'>continued</title><content type='html'>this is the same guy from yesterday's video.&lt;br /&gt;he posted this about three months after his first one.&lt;br /&gt;in this video he talks about coming out to his mom and sister.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="373"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/R30RIx7oAp4&amp;rel=0&amp;color1=0x2b405b&amp;color2=0x6b8ab6&amp;border=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/R30RIx7oAp4&amp;rel=0&amp;color1=0x2b405b&amp;color2=0x6b8ab6&amp;border=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="373"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6035536362934730183-8662010867178106612?l=openingthecloset.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://openingthecloset.blogspot.com/feeds/8662010867178106612/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6035536362934730183&amp;postID=8662010867178106612&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6035536362934730183/posts/default/8662010867178106612'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6035536362934730183/posts/default/8662010867178106612'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://openingthecloset.blogspot.com/2007/12/continued.html' title='continued'/><author><name>Mr. X</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14400246646936806226</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6035536362934730183.post-8756877264064238413</id><published>2007-12-10T14:30:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-12-10T14:42:39.748-06:00</updated><title type='text'>inspiration</title><content type='html'>i'm such a youtube fan. i'm always on youtube just watching random videos. i watch everything from music videos to funny commercials to cute animals doing funny things, lol.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;well, anyway, i came across some coming out stories and found them to be inspirational.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it's weird how much i could relate to this one.&lt;br /&gt;(except the drugs part. i don't do drugs.) &lt;br /&gt;lol.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="355"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/7BB4AODMLog&amp;rel=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/7BB4AODMLog&amp;rel=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="355"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6035536362934730183-8756877264064238413?l=openingthecloset.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://openingthecloset.blogspot.com/feeds/8756877264064238413/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6035536362934730183&amp;postID=8756877264064238413&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6035536362934730183/posts/default/8756877264064238413'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6035536362934730183/posts/default/8756877264064238413'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://openingthecloset.blogspot.com/2007/12/inspiration.html' title='inspiration'/><author><name>Mr. X</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14400246646936806226</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6035536362934730183.post-276940470324371315</id><published>2007-12-10T00:46:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-12-10T01:04:08.733-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='girl 1'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='lisa'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='girl 2'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='lucy'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dream'/><title type='text'>text</title><content type='html'>okay, so remember the "dream entry?"&lt;br /&gt;well, i finally heard from "girl 1." &lt;br /&gt;(she's the one that dreamed i came out to our friend "girl 2.")&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;okay...so i'm going to start using "names."&lt;br /&gt;girl 1 will now be known as lucy and girl 2 will be known as lisa.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so anyway, lucy finally texted me two days ago. and it seems that things aren't as akward as i thought they would be. we didn't even talk about the dream. we just started talking about random things as if the dream never happened.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;however, she did invite me and lisa to her place next week. she said we'll hang out and make cookies. she got a new oven. lol.&lt;br /&gt;(reminder: lucy is the one that goes to college a few hours away...and lisa is the one that lives near me.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;okay, so now i'm really contemplating whether or not i should come out to them when i go down there. &lt;br /&gt;i still can't help it-everytime i think about telling someone i always start feeling scared. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i WANT to be ready. but i dont know if i AM ready. *sigh*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;if i decide to come out, i'm not sure how i'll do it. &lt;br /&gt;i'll probably just bring up the dream again and work it in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the only problem is once i come out to somebody, i'll feel really guilty not telling my parents. i've always been pretty honest with them and always thought i'd tell them before anybody else. &lt;br /&gt;i know i've been "lying" to them and my friends all along, but once someone knows, i'll feel like i'm really "lying" to parents.&lt;br /&gt;all i want is for me to be completely open and honest and have them accept me for who i am--as their son who just happens to be gay.&lt;br /&gt;...argh...why does this have to be so difficult.&lt;br /&gt;okay, well, i need sleep.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;good night.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6035536362934730183-276940470324371315?l=openingthecloset.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://openingthecloset.blogspot.com/feeds/276940470324371315/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6035536362934730183&amp;postID=276940470324371315&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6035536362934730183/posts/default/276940470324371315'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6035536362934730183/posts/default/276940470324371315'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://openingthecloset.blogspot.com/2007/12/text.html' title='text'/><author><name>Mr. X</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14400246646936806226</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6035536362934730183.post-5705987092257804038</id><published>2007-12-06T22:46:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-12-06T22:47:11.549-06:00</updated><title type='text'>i'm gay!</title><content type='html'>sometimes i just want to blurt it out right then and there, "i'm gay!"&lt;br /&gt;*sigh*&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6035536362934730183-5705987092257804038?l=openingthecloset.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://openingthecloset.blogspot.com/feeds/5705987092257804038/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6035536362934730183&amp;postID=5705987092257804038&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6035536362934730183/posts/default/5705987092257804038'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6035536362934730183/posts/default/5705987092257804038'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://openingthecloset.blogspot.com/2007/12/im-gay.html' title='i&apos;m gay!'/><author><name>Mr. X</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14400246646936806226</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6035536362934730183.post-24107940923019256</id><published>2007-12-04T00:08:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2007-12-04T00:34:18.536-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='thanks'/><title type='text'>thanks guys</title><content type='html'>i just want to say thanks for the comments and advice from my last entry.&lt;br /&gt;it's moments like these when i'm glad i finally decided to create this blog.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;in a way, it's like i'm not going through this alone. it's great that i'm able to write down what i'm going through and get such positive feed back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i have a question for "devil's advocate."&lt;br /&gt;since you didn't have a link to a blog, i assume you don't have one.&lt;br /&gt;out of curiousity, i was wondering what stage in life that you're going through?&lt;br /&gt;are you closeted, in the process of coming out, or already out? &lt;br /&gt;it actually sounds like you're out at least to a few people because your comment seems to be coming from experience.&lt;br /&gt;i just want to say thanks again. don't feel the need to answer this if you choose not to.&lt;br /&gt;it's totally up to you on what you feel comfortable commenting on.&lt;br /&gt;it's really just out of my own curiousity as to who out there is reading this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;anyway, so for those of you wondering what i ended up doing i'll tell you.&lt;br /&gt;i didn't do anything. lol. i don't know if it was the best thing to, but that's just what i did.&lt;br /&gt;i didn't resond back to the text. &lt;br /&gt;it's not unusual for me to not reply back anyway. there are plenty of times i get texts and don't always reply back. it's either because i'm busy or that i just simply forget to text back until it's too late.&lt;br /&gt;let's just say that i "conveniently" forgot about it. *wink*&lt;br /&gt;hahaha!&lt;br /&gt;oh well, we'll just wait and see what happens.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6035536362934730183-24107940923019256?l=openingthecloset.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://openingthecloset.blogspot.com/feeds/24107940923019256/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6035536362934730183&amp;postID=24107940923019256&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6035536362934730183/posts/default/24107940923019256'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6035536362934730183/posts/default/24107940923019256'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://openingthecloset.blogspot.com/2007/12/thanks-guys.html' title='thanks guys'/><author><name>Mr. X</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14400246646936806226</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6035536362934730183.post-6343936289605864792</id><published>2007-12-01T23:20:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2007-12-02T00:34:17.437-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='coming out'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='girl 1'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='girl 2'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dream'/><title type='text'>will you let me know...</title><content type='html'>okay, it's probably because i'm extremely paranoid, but if there's anyone who comes across my blog and thinks they know who i am, will you let me know through person, phone, text, or email? ...please.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i mean, i doubt that anybody who knows me has come across this, but there's always that SLIGHT possibility.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;anywho, with that said i just got a text from one of my friends saying, &lt;br /&gt;"are you bi? rumors are circling around..."&lt;br /&gt;what?!?!&lt;br /&gt;okay, now if i were to even hint that i was not straight, he would tell everbody! &lt;br /&gt;he can't keep secrets. besides i don't want to come out to him before girl 1 or girl 2. &lt;br /&gt;i've known them for so much longer and would feel more comfortable telling them first.&lt;br /&gt;i don't know how to answer his text. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;he is actually girl 2's boyfriend. so i'm sure she told him about girl 1's dream (see yesterday) and that's why he is asking.&lt;br /&gt;[sidenote: sorry i hadn't given my friends any "names"...i didn't think i'd keep refering to them so often. but girl 1 and girl 2 are from yesterday's entry."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so...i am just a little perturbed. *sigh*&lt;br /&gt;he might even be asking in a joking way too. or maybe a little jokingly and a litle bit seriously. or maybe just seriously. it's always hard to tell the tone through a text.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;oh, and just so you know, i hadn't talked to girl 1 at all about her dream since the day i saw her. i was too chicken to bring it back up. she also never texted me today.&lt;br /&gt;but apparently, the dream story just won't go away. and now that i think about it, the boyfriend is probably going to tell some other people about the dream. &lt;br /&gt;...ugh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;isn't it weird how i seem to be coming out to everyone without actually doing it? &lt;br /&gt;it's weird how somebody's dream is potentially outing me!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;to be honest, i didn't see myself coming out for a very long time.&lt;br /&gt;what should i do?&lt;br /&gt;i don't know if i'm ready for this!&lt;br /&gt;...eeep!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6035536362934730183-6343936289605864792?l=openingthecloset.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://openingthecloset.blogspot.com/feeds/6343936289605864792/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6035536362934730183&amp;postID=6343936289605864792&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6035536362934730183/posts/default/6343936289605864792'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6035536362934730183/posts/default/6343936289605864792'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://openingthecloset.blogspot.com/2007/12/will-you-let-me-know.html' title='will you let me know...'/><author><name>Mr. X</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14400246646936806226</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6035536362934730183.post-5846584796841719523</id><published>2007-11-30T22:34:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-12-01T23:53:14.234-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='coming out'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='girl 1'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='girl 2'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='friends'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dream'/><title type='text'>oh...my...gosh...</title><content type='html'>guess what???&lt;br /&gt;i came out!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...okay, well, it was in my friend's dream, so not really.&lt;br /&gt;*sigh*&lt;br /&gt;where do i begin?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i apologize in advance if this entry seems scattered and unorganized...i'm full of mixed emotions right now. i just got home and decided to blog about what just happened.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;okay, so i've been meaning to write a blog about "coming out" and how there seems like no open opportunity to do so. there just never seems to be that "right time." i always thought if i wanted to come out, i'd have to bring up the subject myself. i was actually going to write about that yesterday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;however, today probably would have been that "right time." &lt;br /&gt;so what's wrong with me?!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;okay, so here's the story and a little background information for it to make sense.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i have these two really close girl friends. one lives near me and the other goes to college a few hours away. &lt;br /&gt;i always felt that when i was ready to tell someone, that it would be one of them i tell first. i had actually been contemplating which one i'd tell first.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;well, the one that lives a few hours away was in town today.  the three of us were hanging out, as well with another guy friend (who happens to be gay-but doesn't really have anything to do with the story-well maybe...you'll see.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;we went to dinner and when we finished we began to walk out to the parking lot. the guy friend went to the restroom. so it was the three of us walking outside and then i heard them whispering something to each other..and then they were kinda giggling. i figured it was some inside joke and i didn't really think anything of it.&lt;br /&gt;well, then i hear one of them say, "should i tell him about it?"&lt;br /&gt;girl2:"noo...*giggle*"&lt;br /&gt;girl1:"i'm embarassed..hahaha...well, it was a dream anyway, so it doesn't matter. i can tell him."&lt;br /&gt;girl2:"....okay."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so at this point a million things are running through my head...to be honest, i thought she was going to say she had a sex dream about me.&lt;br /&gt;so then she (girl1) says, "umm...so, in my dream...you told her(girl2) that you were gay, but you didn't want to tell me."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;can i just say that i'm glad we were outside and that it was dark because i'm sure my face was turning red...and my heart started beating so fast. i had NO idea this was coming and i had NO idea how to respond!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me: "...oh...*nervous chuckle*..."&lt;br /&gt;then she looked at me and said, "...don't worry, i don't think you're gay."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;oh..my..gosh, what do i do?! part of me just wanted to come out right then and there, but it's not how i imagined it at all...and i wasn't even sure what to say. do i say, well, it's okay because i am? ahhh....i didn't know what to do...so i kinda just kept nervously laughing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"are you mad? i'm sorry...but it was just in my dream."&lt;br /&gt;me:"no, i'm not mad...don't worry about it."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i never denied that i was gay...i just told her not to worry about it. i really wanted to say something like, well, what would you say if i really was gay?&lt;br /&gt;i think one of the things holding me back was knowing that our guy friend was going to be coming from the restroom any minute...so i didn't want to confess everything and be in the middle of coming out...and then he shows up. it would be really, really akward and uncomfortable for me.&lt;br /&gt;so a minute later, and he was back from the restroom and he started talking about something, which changed the subject.&lt;br /&gt;whew!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;we began walking to the car and she came up to me apologized again saying, "sorry. it wasn't me that thought you were gay. i guess it was my subconscious."&lt;br /&gt;well...her subconscious knows that i'm gay! i guess that means she has probably thought about me being gay at least a few times.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so then i thought the moment was over...but later we went to get coffee and it came up again!! ahhh!!&lt;br /&gt;she started talking about something else that happened in the dream to the other girl and the guy friend had missed it, so was asking about it. they were like, "it's just a dream i had."&lt;br /&gt;him:"a dream about what?"&lt;br /&gt;the girls: *giggling*&lt;br /&gt;then he asked me what it was. there was no way i was going to say it...so i just told her to repeat it. she did, and they kinda laughed at it..and i was just chuckling....and really trying a way to take the focus off of me and to a new subject. it's a good thing they couldn't hear my heart! it was racing so fast and i was so nervous.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i seriously think if it had just been me and her alone, i might have actually come out to her. and then told the other girl later or with her by my side for support. but i really didn't feel ready to come out for the first time to three people all at once.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;after i dropped them off, that's ALL i could think about on my way home. i got a little teary eyed just thinking how i was so close to finally telling her. &lt;br /&gt;i also started thinking if i should talk to her about it. i dunno. should i? should i bring it up again?&lt;br /&gt;it wouldn't be in person because she leaves first thing tomorrow morning. i almost thought about texting her.&lt;br /&gt;i'd say something to bring up the conversation/dream. i know texting isn't as personal as in person or even over the phone, but i'm scared! i'd probably even tell her that i'm embarassed for texting her and wished i had said something to her in person.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and i also don't know if i should come out to her if she brings it up again later? she's always texting me...so i have this feeling that she'll text me something tomorrow about the dream conversation. i wouldn't know what to say. should i tell her that her dream was right? or something like..."there was probably a reason for your dream. the truth is i am gay." ahhh, just thinking about it terrifies me. i seriously didn't see this coming.&lt;br /&gt;in a way, i wish she would have just asked me, "are you gay?"&lt;br /&gt;that seems so much easier because i could just say yes. &lt;br /&gt;*sigh*&lt;br /&gt;i'm sorry if this is really long...i'm so scattered brain right now that i'm not even sure if any of this makes sense right now. i'm actually getting teary eyed just thinking about all of this. i'm a little overwhelmed and seriously very tired. i'm going to bed...hopefully i'll fall asleep and won't let these thoughts keep me up. &lt;br /&gt;*sigh*&lt;br /&gt;good night.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6035536362934730183-5846584796841719523?l=openingthecloset.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://openingthecloset.blogspot.com/feeds/5846584796841719523/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6035536362934730183&amp;postID=5846584796841719523&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6035536362934730183/posts/default/5846584796841719523'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6035536362934730183/posts/default/5846584796841719523'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://openingthecloset.blogspot.com/2007/11/ohmygosh.html' title='oh...my...gosh...'/><author><name>Mr. X</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14400246646936806226</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6035536362934730183.post-2333378127238554962</id><published>2007-11-29T23:28:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-11-29T23:45:36.199-06:00</updated><title type='text'>funny scenarios...</title><content type='html'>sometimes i play funny scenarios in my head as to how i might come out to my parents...it's mostly just for fun. i really wouldn't play them out in real life. i think every now and then i'll post some as i make them up.&lt;br /&gt;earlier today, this is the one i made up;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"mom...we need to talk..."&lt;br /&gt;"okay, what's wrong?"&lt;br /&gt;"um..i accidently got somebody pregnant..."&lt;br /&gt;"WHAT?!?"&lt;br /&gt;"...uh, just kidding. i just wanted to say, that i'm gay."&lt;br /&gt;*looks at me confused*&lt;br /&gt;"...oh...?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;yeah, so i figured if i give her something really shocking at first...telling her i'm gay wouldn't seem like such a big deal. she would have already used up all her energy with her initial reaction.&lt;br /&gt;ha!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i used to do this with my dad when i was younger. if i wanted him to buy me something i would tell him the price was higher than it actually was...then later tell i'd him it was actually lower to make it not seem so expensive.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6035536362934730183-2333378127238554962?l=openingthecloset.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://openingthecloset.blogspot.com/feeds/2333378127238554962/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6035536362934730183&amp;postID=2333378127238554962&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6035536362934730183/posts/default/2333378127238554962'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6035536362934730183/posts/default/2333378127238554962'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://openingthecloset.blogspot.com/2007/11/funny-scenarios.html' title='funny scenarios...'/><author><name>Mr. X</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14400246646936806226</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6035536362934730183.post-6347932339757224416</id><published>2007-11-24T23:23:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-11-24T23:52:38.712-06:00</updated><title type='text'>the gay guy?</title><content type='html'>the other day i was next to this guy who was talking on his cell phone.&lt;br /&gt;it's not like i was listening on purpose, but i happened to catch part of his conversation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;apparently, he was talking about some new people he met.&lt;br /&gt;...&lt;br /&gt;"oh yeah, she was funny."&lt;br /&gt;...&lt;br /&gt;"..and who was that? was that the gay guy?"&lt;br /&gt;...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the "gay guy?" that's one thing i keep thinking about.&lt;br /&gt;i don't want to be known as the "gay guy" when i come out. i want to be known as me for me.&lt;br /&gt;i don't really want to be the "gay friend" or "gay guy."&lt;br /&gt;that's just one thing that i'm worried about. when i come out to my friends, i'm worried things might change.&lt;br /&gt;i'm sure they might change a little bit, but i hope it's still pretty much the same.&lt;br /&gt;but if they introduce me to somebody, i don't want to be known as so-and-so's "gay friend."&lt;br /&gt;i guess i'm just worried about being labeled.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6035536362934730183-6347932339757224416?l=openingthecloset.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://openingthecloset.blogspot.com/feeds/6347932339757224416/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6035536362934730183&amp;postID=6347932339757224416&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6035536362934730183/posts/default/6347932339757224416'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6035536362934730183/posts/default/6347932339757224416'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://openingthecloset.blogspot.com/2007/11/gay-guy.html' title='the gay guy?'/><author><name>Mr. X</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14400246646936806226</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6035536362934730183.post-7230573954675580583</id><published>2007-11-23T23:30:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-11-23T23:58:54.614-06:00</updated><title type='text'>akward</title><content type='html'>a few days ago i was in the car with my mom. we were just talking.&lt;br /&gt;when ever i'm with my parents i feel bad because it feels like i'm constantly lying to them by not letting them know who i am. well, that thought is always in the back of my mind, but i must have been thinking about it too much that day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i began telling her what i was planning on doing later that day.&lt;br /&gt;i wanted to say,&lt;br /&gt;"later today, i want to go to walgreens to get...blah blah blah."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;instead, i said,&lt;br /&gt;"later togay...t-togay, togay..toDAY..um, i want to go to walgreens to get...blah blah blah."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;talk about akward. as soon as i said "to-gay", i guess i got nervous and couldn't help but stutter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it felt so akward. i just tried to keep talking and not make a big deal about it.&lt;br /&gt;i don't think she thought anything of it...i think it's just part of my paranoia that made it such a big deal.&lt;br /&gt;i mean, i only said "togay." it's not like i said "i'm gay." lol.&lt;br /&gt;now that would have been akward...but then again, i'd finally be out!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6035536362934730183-7230573954675580583?l=openingthecloset.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://openingthecloset.blogspot.com/feeds/7230573954675580583/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6035536362934730183&amp;postID=7230573954675580583&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6035536362934730183/posts/default/7230573954675580583'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6035536362934730183/posts/default/7230573954675580583'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://openingthecloset.blogspot.com/2007/11/akward.html' title='akward'/><author><name>Mr. X</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14400246646936806226</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6035536362934730183.post-8655191108751991994</id><published>2007-11-17T21:45:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-11-17T23:14:11.928-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='clubbing'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='friends'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='college 1'/><title type='text'>the club continued...</title><content type='html'>i decided to look over the railing and find my group. &lt;br /&gt;i stood there by myself looking down watching people dance. &lt;br /&gt;...&lt;br /&gt;holding the rail with both of my hands, i look down and finally spot my group dancing. i stand there for a bit when i see someone walk up near me through my peripheral vision. i don't look up, but look at their feet to see how close they are. &lt;br /&gt;he's not too close to me...about four feet away. so i don't really think too much about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;then slowly, he starts inching his way in my direction. i'm not sure what i should do. &lt;br /&gt;should i make eye contact?&lt;br /&gt;should i just leave?&lt;br /&gt;should i scoot over?&lt;br /&gt;i finally look up and he had been looking at me the whole time. nervously, i tighten my grip on the railing. as i watch him scoot in closer, he seems to be swaying.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;is he drunk?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;finally, he's only inches away and smiles at me. i didn't know what to do, so i smile back.&lt;br /&gt;immediately afterwards, i asked myself why i smiled. i guess it's habit because i always smile at people. &lt;br /&gt;but here, i'm sure it gives the wrong impression.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the next thing he did kind of shocked me. he leaned to my ear and said, "hi, my name's [?]. what's yours?"&lt;br /&gt;and then he kissed my ear?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;at this point it was obvious that he was totally drunk! he was slurring his words, and i didn't even really understand what he said his name was. &lt;br /&gt;after my initial shock, i just was a little freaked out. &lt;br /&gt;quickly and nervously, i said, &lt;br /&gt;"..hey...um, my name's (x). uh...sorry, i was just looking for my friends...they're waiting for me, uh..we're about to leave. sorry, i gotta go."&lt;br /&gt;then i just walked off. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i kinda felt bad because i probably came off as a huge jerk.&lt;br /&gt;however, since he was drunk, i was probably was speaking too fast for him to understand and secondly, i doubt he would even remember this situation the next day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so yeah, i went downstairs and met my friends. i didn't tell them about my little "adventure."&lt;br /&gt;we danced a little more, then left.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;p.s.: thanks to "anonymous" for the comment on the last comment. don't be a stranger! you're welcome to comment anytime.  :)&lt;br /&gt;that goes for everyone reading this. i like to know who's reading this and what they think. i think it's pretty cool how so many of us can relate to each other.&lt;br /&gt;are there any other readers of my blog in the same situation i'm in? (still in the closet and wanting to come out) or maybe some of you are already out, i'd like to know how your "coming out" experience has been. or perhaps you just want to stop by and say hi. you know, whatever.&lt;br /&gt;:)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6035536362934730183-8655191108751991994?l=openingthecloset.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://openingthecloset.blogspot.com/feeds/8655191108751991994/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6035536362934730183&amp;postID=8655191108751991994&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6035536362934730183/posts/default/8655191108751991994'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6035536362934730183/posts/default/8655191108751991994'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://openingthecloset.blogspot.com/2007/11/club-continued.html' title='the club continued...'/><author><name>Mr. X</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14400246646936806226</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6035536362934730183.post-6583816631258866164</id><published>2007-11-15T21:15:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-11-15T22:24:14.159-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='clubbing'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='friends'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='college 1'/><title type='text'>the club</title><content type='html'>when my friends found out that i hadn't been clubbing before, they wanted to take me. &lt;br /&gt;who knew my first clubbing experience would be at a gay club?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[fyi, this is a story from college1]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;they told me they would take me clubbing, but it was going to be at a gay club. they asked if it that was alright. i told them i had no problem with it. i was a bit excited and curious, even though the whole club scene isn't really me.&lt;br /&gt;they said that the gay club that we were going to was better than the other clubs in the area. they said some of the other (straight) clubs are good, but they've always had more fun at the gay club.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i'm trying to think who all went that night. &lt;br /&gt;i think it was me, two straight guys, two gay guys, and two straight girls.&lt;br /&gt;on the way down there, they were teasing me. &lt;br /&gt;they were like, "whatever you do, stay with the group. if you wander off by yourself, someone might hit on you."&lt;br /&gt;then one of the girls said, "don't worry, you can just pretend to be my boyfriend."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;entering the club, i immediately heard the loud music and saw that it was dark with lots of flashing/rotating lights with some fog every now and then. let's just say that as we got to the dance floor, there was a lot of eye candy, but i didn't know how to act. here i am wanting to look, but i'm supposed to act like i don't enjoy seeing half-naked guys dancing. (not to mention, that i'm still pretty much in denial about myself at this time) so i just kept taking occasional glances as if i was just looking around since it was my first time there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;our little group of friends just started dancing together. i just remember thinking how cool it was too look around and just see everyone having a good time. there were guys dancing with girls, guys dancing with guys, and girls dancing with girls.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;we ended up branching off with dance buddies. me and one of the girls, two guys and one girl, and the other two (gay) guys went upstairs to get some drinks. later, the guys came back down. one came up behind me, put his arms around me and started dancing. &lt;br /&gt;everyone started laughing since i was "straight." &lt;br /&gt;i just laughed too and &lt;br /&gt;he said, &lt;br /&gt;"sorry, i couldn't resist doing that to you. it probably made you really uncomfortable!"&lt;br /&gt;obviously, it didn't. &lt;br /&gt;but even if i was truly straight, i don't think i would have been uncomfortable since we were friends (although not the closest). he probably thought since i was straight that it would be weird for me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;anyway, let's cut to later in the night. we've been dancing/talking/just having a good time. we'll i end up having to pee.&lt;br /&gt;i asked them where the restroom was, and they told me it was upstairs. one of the girls asked if i wanted her to go with me to act like a "girlfriend." &lt;br /&gt;i laughed and said, "it's okay, i think i'll be alright."&lt;br /&gt;so i left and headed up stairs. i did my business and came out of the restroom. upstairs, it's open so you you can look down at the dance floor. i decided to look over the railing and find my group. &lt;br /&gt;i stood there by myself looking down watching people dance. &lt;br /&gt;and guess what happened?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6035536362934730183-6583816631258866164?l=openingthecloset.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://openingthecloset.blogspot.com/feeds/6583816631258866164/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6035536362934730183&amp;postID=6583816631258866164&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6035536362934730183/posts/default/6583816631258866164'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6035536362934730183/posts/default/6583816631258866164'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://openingthecloset.blogspot.com/2007/11/club.html' title='the club'/><author><name>Mr. X</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14400246646936806226</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6035536362934730183.post-8764743625479727973</id><published>2007-11-12T17:55:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-11-12T22:21:07.124-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='friends'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='college 1'/><title type='text'>the twist</title><content type='html'>i didn't forget about blogging. it's just that i haven't had a whole lot of free time this weekend. i don't have a whole lot of time right now either because i have some other things that need to be done.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;okay, so i  was going to pick up where i left off. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so, i am at college 1.&lt;br /&gt;i've made a few more friends, except this time i've become friends with a more equal amount of guys to girls.&lt;br /&gt;i didn't really realize it at the time. &lt;br /&gt;we all got a long really well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so one night, a few of us decided to hang out. i'm not sure where we went. it was probably the movies.&lt;br /&gt;so one of my guy friends picked me up (because i didn't have a car at the time) and we drove to the theater.&lt;br /&gt;in the parking lot we saw one of our friends standing there next to a guy i hadn't met.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;as we drove past them looking for a parking spot, my friend (in the car) says,&lt;br /&gt;"oh, by the way...that's his boyfriend."&lt;br /&gt;*a few seconds of silence*&lt;br /&gt;"really??" &lt;br /&gt;haha, i was really surprised. &lt;br /&gt;i had no idea he was gay!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6035536362934730183-8764743625479727973?l=openingthecloset.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://openingthecloset.blogspot.com/feeds/8764743625479727973/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6035536362934730183&amp;postID=8764743625479727973&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6035536362934730183/posts/default/8764743625479727973'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6035536362934730183/posts/default/8764743625479727973'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://openingthecloset.blogspot.com/2007/11/twist.html' title='the twist'/><author><name>Mr. X</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14400246646936806226</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6035536362934730183.post-8388724408136713310</id><published>2007-11-09T20:01:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-11-09T21:58:23.249-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='friends'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='college 1'/><title type='text'>friends</title><content type='html'>alright...the votes are all tallied up and the topic for today is chosen. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;lol, okay, so there was some sarcasm there. i only got one vote. but that made all the difference! i really wasn't expecting any votes. &lt;br /&gt;so, i just want to give a thanks to aek (the masks we wear) for choosing the next topic! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;topic for today's entry will be...&lt;br /&gt;...my new friends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;some quick background info about my friends prior to college 1.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;thinking back about previous friends, i've noticed that they were mostly girls. &lt;br /&gt;i've always had more girl (space) friends than guy friends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;back in elementary, i remember one of my best friends was a guy, but he moved away. in fifth grade, i became best friends with these two girls. i had other guy and girl friends too, but those two were the ones i talked to and hung out with the most. &lt;br /&gt;we'd sit together at lunch, we'd work on projects together, and we'd play four square together during recess.&lt;br /&gt;sadly, they both moved away after elementarty school. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href="http://photobucket.com" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i8.photobucket.com/albums/a32/Tinkham/Icons/school.jpg" border="0" alt="Photo Sharing and Video Hosting at Photobucket"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;in middle school, i had guy and girl friends, but most of them happened to be girls. &lt;br /&gt;this also carried over to high school. i think some of it had to do with me not being able to relate with them that much. &lt;br /&gt;even some of the girls thought i was different, but in a good way. i remember someone telling me, 'you're not like other guys. you're really nice and much more mature than most of them.' &lt;br /&gt;it's true. &lt;br /&gt;i did feel different and did feel more mature than them. part of it probably had to do with me not "picking" on girls.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i mean, what do young adolescent boys usually do when they "like" that girl in class?&lt;br /&gt;they tease her, or play with her hair, or do something that usually annoys them, lol. well, i never had those feelings toward girls, so i never picked on or teased anybody. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it's actually pretty funny when i find myself hanging out with a group of all girl friends. somehow they find themselves talking about boys and/or boyfriends and saying something like "ugh...boys are stupid!"&lt;br /&gt;realizing what they just said, they look over at me, smile, and either say like "um...no offense!" or "uh, well, not you!"&lt;br /&gt;then i smile back and we just start laughing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;well, after high school, i left to college 1. &lt;br /&gt;that's where the 'twist' in my friends took place.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...and that's where i'll pick up next time.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6035536362934730183-8388724408136713310?l=openingthecloset.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://openingthecloset.blogspot.com/feeds/8388724408136713310/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6035536362934730183&amp;postID=8388724408136713310&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6035536362934730183/posts/default/8388724408136713310'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6035536362934730183/posts/default/8388724408136713310'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://openingthecloset.blogspot.com/2007/11/my-new-friends.html' title='friends'/><author><name>Mr. X</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14400246646936806226</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://i8.photobucket.com/albums/a32/Tinkham/Icons/th_school.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6035536362934730183.post-4528812780791706378</id><published>2007-11-08T23:57:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-11-09T00:04:40.116-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='hot'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='girlfriend'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='college 1'/><title type='text'>hot and whatnot</title><content type='html'>after high school, i left to college 1.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;new campus, new people, new surroundings, new everything!&lt;br /&gt;thinking back, it could've been a new begining for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i didn't know anyone and nobody knew me. all of my friends from high school went to different colleges.&lt;br /&gt;essentially, i could have started living my life openly right from the get-go. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;there's just a tiny problem...&lt;br /&gt;...i wasn't ready and i still hadn't come to fully accept it. it's this new place and i wanted to fit in and make some new friends. thinking about coming out in this new environment was probably the last thing on my mind. &lt;br /&gt;besides, i was just waiting for the "phase" to pass already.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;okay, now cut to me some weeks later. i made a few friends and i was adjusting to the new campus pretty well. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;well, one day i went to the eating area/food court alone to get something to eat. i bought my food then went to go find a seat. &lt;br /&gt;boy, did i pick a bad time to eat lunch. the place was packed. i couldn't find any emtpy tables. i walked around, glancing from table to table, hoping somebody would be getting up soon.&lt;br /&gt;it didn't happen. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but, i did come across this round table where this girl happened to be eating and doing homework alone. all the other surrounding chairs were empty. it didn't look like she was saving them or expecting anybody to come sit with her. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"are these seats taken?"&lt;br /&gt;"no."&lt;br /&gt;"do you mind if i eat here, i couldn't find any empty tables."&lt;br /&gt;"oh, not at all, go ahead, it's fine."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i would feel a little bit akward if i were to just sit there and begin eating, so i engaged in some small talk. &lt;br /&gt;you know, &lt;br /&gt;where are you from, what's your major, how do you like it, and so on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;she was really nice and we laughed a lot. she even asked me if i could help her with her homework. it was math. (yuck! lol.) i was able to help with some of it. she then finished her meal and packed up so she could head to class. she thanked me and then started writing down her number. i recirocated by giving her mine. i figured we could become friends and keep in touch. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but later i began to think she thought there was potential for being more than "just friends." she called me the next day and asked if i wanted to join her for lunch again.&lt;br /&gt;i said sure and so we did. &lt;br /&gt;i began thinking maybe we could be "more than just friends" as well. she was pretty and funny. i always figured i really never had many girlfriends because i never went looking for them. but here was this girl i just met. maybe there's room for a potential girlfriend. could my "phase" really be passing? see, i just hadn't met the right girl, right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;well, we had a few lunches together and talked on aim for about a week. &lt;br /&gt;then i learned about her exboyfriend. apparently, they had just broken up before college because they were going to two different schools, which were really far apart. that's when i began to feel like she still had feelings for him. there was definately "emotional baggage."&lt;br /&gt;i decided i really didn't want to be anything, but friends. we started talking less and less because midterms were coming up and we started studying more and whatnot. somehow we managed to stop talking to each other completely and i haven't heard from her since.&lt;br /&gt;it's pretty good it worked out the way it did. i mean, she had her issues and i had mine. for some reason, i was still attracted to guys. i never really felt attracted to her, but i told myself i was because she was pretty. &lt;br /&gt;i can tell when girls are pretty/attractive, but i have difficulty saying things like, "she's hot." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i feel weird saying girls are "hot." &lt;br /&gt;i really don't see girls being "hot" the same way someone could describe a guy being "hot." there are a few exceptions though. &lt;br /&gt;who you ask? &lt;br /&gt;well, i'd say eva longoria is pretty "hot." lol.&lt;br /&gt;okay, so i'm not even sure if all this talking about being "hot" and whatnot makes sense to anybody...but it seems to be making sense in my head right now, lol.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;alrighty, so i want to make this blog somewhat interactive. &lt;br /&gt;so for my next blog i want you to choose tomorrow's topic. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;do you want to read about "my new friends" or "my girlfriend?" &lt;br /&gt;i think both have potential to make interesting entries. we'll see how it goes.&lt;br /&gt;okay, so which ever one gets the most votes by tmrw will be my topic. &lt;br /&gt;to vote, just go the comment section and type which topic you want. i'm not expecting many voters. i mean, all it takes is one person, lol. &lt;br /&gt;and if i dont get any comments, then i'll just go ahead and choose it myself.&lt;br /&gt;:)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6035536362934730183-4528812780791706378?l=openingthecloset.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://openingthecloset.blogspot.com/feeds/4528812780791706378/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6035536362934730183&amp;postID=4528812780791706378&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6035536362934730183/posts/default/4528812780791706378'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6035536362934730183/posts/default/4528812780791706378'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://openingthecloset.blogspot.com/2007/11/hot-and-whatnot.html' title='hot and whatnot'/><author><name>Mr. X</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14400246646936806226</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6035536362934730183.post-1844247896053548660</id><published>2007-11-08T19:39:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-11-17T22:56:46.340-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='thanks'/><title type='text'>thanks</title><content type='html'>can i just begin by saying how glad i am that i started this blog. &lt;br /&gt;i'm able to write about things that i haven't told anybody! it actually feels kind of weird to type so freely and talk about these things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i'm also surprised that i actually have readers (even if it's less than 5! lol).&lt;br /&gt;and guess who was the very first person to leave me a comment?&lt;br /&gt;it was matt from debriefing the boys! (check out his blog, it's on my link list)&lt;br /&gt;he was actually one of the very first blogs that i ever started reading. i remember reading his blog before he came out. then came the entry when he told his parents. i was so happy for him. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;this was when i was still somewhat in denial about myself, but found his blog so inspiring.&lt;br /&gt;so because of him, i found other people with blogs dealing with the same situations i would find myself in.&lt;br /&gt;it's comforting to know that i can relate to others and that i'm not the only one struggling with this.&lt;br /&gt;if it wasn't for him and his blog, i probably wouldn't even have known about all the other bloggers and i surely wouldn't be writing in this blog right now. so thanks matt!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i'd also like to thank 'closeted' for your comment and words of encouragement! (his blog is also on my link list)&lt;br /&gt;also, thanks to "anonymous" for your comment in the last post. just curious, do you have a blog of your own? if not, i hope you come back and let me know what's going on in your life, or if you just want to leave a random comment, or just want to stop by and say hey.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;actually, this goes for anyone who happens to be reading this (whether you're blogger or non-blogger). i dont care if you just want to leave a comment saying "hi" or whatever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;update: just want to give another thanks to 'b' from 'figuring myself out' (also on my link list) for mentioning me in his blog. i hope any of y'all that stop by will let me know about your own blog. i look forward to reading about people who are/were in the same position i'm in. :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6035536362934730183-1844247896053548660?l=openingthecloset.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://openingthecloset.blogspot.com/feeds/1844247896053548660/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6035536362934730183&amp;postID=1844247896053548660&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6035536362934730183/posts/default/1844247896053548660'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6035536362934730183/posts/default/1844247896053548660'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://openingthecloset.blogspot.com/2007/11/thanks.html' title='thanks'/><author><name>Mr. X</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14400246646936806226</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6035536362934730183.post-5899820447101810168</id><published>2007-11-08T10:48:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-11-08T12:52:43.103-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='college'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='college 2'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='college 1'/><title type='text'>college</title><content type='html'>okay, so a quick condensed version of some background info.;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;after high school, i went to a college which was pretty far from my home. &lt;br /&gt;it is about a three hour plane ride, but driving there is soo much longer than that. &lt;br /&gt;about two years later, i moved back home and transferred to a nearby college. &lt;br /&gt;and this should bring you up-to-date as to where i'm at right now. &lt;br /&gt;i'm currently living at home and going to the second college i just mentioned above.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;okay, so hopefully that made sense and now you're caught up (at least somewhat). &lt;br /&gt;now i can share my individual stories while attending the first college and/or the second (current) college, &lt;br /&gt;which will now be referred to as college 1 and college 2.&lt;br /&gt;okay, some stories to come later.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6035536362934730183-5899820447101810168?l=openingthecloset.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://openingthecloset.blogspot.com/feeds/5899820447101810168/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6035536362934730183&amp;postID=5899820447101810168&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6035536362934730183/posts/default/5899820447101810168'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6035536362934730183/posts/default/5899820447101810168'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://openingthecloset.blogspot.com/2007/11/college.html' title='college'/><author><name>Mr. X</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14400246646936806226</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6035536362934730183.post-6140580907272425284</id><published>2007-11-07T19:56:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-11-07T21:39:57.590-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='high school'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dating'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='girlfriend'/><title type='text'>defining moment?</title><content type='html'>thinking back in my life, i don't really think i have that one "defining moment" of realizing i was gay.&lt;br /&gt;i've read some stories where someone wakes up and just comes to that realization.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;however, i think i have always known, but was more aware of it during high school.&lt;br /&gt;ah, yes...high school.&lt;br /&gt;high school for me wasn't a bad experience. i actually had a lot fun. i was active in a lot of extracurricular activities/clubs and it kept me busy. ...and that was pretty much my answer for me not really having a girlfriend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but it's high school! &lt;br /&gt;you know, where everyone has crushes, everyone is gossiping on who is a couple, and who like who(m?). &lt;br /&gt;so whenever i got the question, "why don't you have a girlfriend?" or "are you crushing on anyone?" i would say, &lt;br /&gt;"well, i've been pretty busy. there's school work and all the clubs i have to go to. if i were in a relationship, it probably wouldn't work out since i don't have a lot of free time. i'm not really looking for anything right now anyway."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;during high school, i still rejected the fact that i might be gay mostly because i thought "it's just a phase." &lt;br /&gt;there was this one gay guy that went to my high school who was extremely flamboyant and talked with a lisp. many people made fun of him. poor guy.  :(&lt;br /&gt;but this is what i thought being "gay" was about. it's what i had seen in the movies and sometimes in television. &lt;br /&gt;well, that wasn't me at all! so i must not be gay, right?&lt;br /&gt;i was just like all the other guys, so why didn't i see girls the way they did?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i really felt akward (and still do!!)  when guys are ogling girls and are like "what do you think of her?" or "she hot, huh?"&lt;br /&gt;i usually agree then try to work the conversation back to what we were talking about or i change the subject.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it wasn't until senior year that i thought i actually "liked" a girl. &lt;br /&gt;she went to another high school, but i knew her through one of the clubs i was in.&lt;br /&gt;it was around the time of homecoming and i wasn't even the one to approach her. someone told me that she thought i was really cute and asked if i liked her. she was really pretty and i was still in denial about myself, so i said yeah. later that week, the same person told me that i should ask her to homecoming. &lt;br /&gt;...and so i did.&lt;br /&gt;we didnt "go out" before the dance, but we did a lot of talking over the phone. &lt;br /&gt;then came the night of the homecoming dance. we went to dinner, then to the dance and had a fun time. the next week we went out to a movie. but things kind of fizzled after that. i didn't really "feel" anything towards her other than friendship. i'm sure she sensed it because she didn't call as much as she used to. then we sort of just stopped talking, except on few occasions. we just became friends. we never really officially "broke up" because we were never really officially dating.&lt;br /&gt;she was the only "girlfriend" i had during high school.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6035536362934730183-6140580907272425284?l=openingthecloset.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://openingthecloset.blogspot.com/feeds/6140580907272425284/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6035536362934730183&amp;postID=6140580907272425284&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6035536362934730183/posts/default/6140580907272425284'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6035536362934730183/posts/default/6140580907272425284'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://openingthecloset.blogspot.com/2007/11/defining-moment.html' title='defining moment?'/><author><name>Mr. X</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14400246646936806226</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6035536362934730183.post-2450601125563906550</id><published>2007-11-06T10:30:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-11-06T23:20:39.429-06:00</updated><title type='text'>about my blog</title><content type='html'>okay, so i'm not sure how often i'm going to write. it'll vary, i'm sure.&lt;br /&gt;i'm thinking i'll blog about random everyday things as well as thoughts on coming out.&lt;br /&gt;this whole "coming out" is terrifying to me. i don't know when i'll finally have the courage to tell someone, but dont expect that to happen anytime soon. i almost didn't have the guts to create this blog. lol.&lt;br /&gt;so all i can say is, it'll happen when it happens.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;okay, so i just want to explain a few things about my blog. i'm new to all this, so i'm learning as i go. as far as the title, i think it's pretty self-explanatory. i'm finally trying to "open the closet." i'm wanting to "come out," but i'm pretty scared. it's probably because i dont want things to change. i know i won't do much changing because i'll still be me no matter what. but it's the people around me that i'm worried about. i dont want to be perceived differently. (this could be a whole blog topic of its own, so i might come back and elaborate about this)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;you'll also notice my name is "Mr. X." &lt;br /&gt;anybody watch the simpsons? &lt;br /&gt;well, there was this one episode when homer gets a new computer and creates a website of his own. he doesn't get many hits, so he writes gossip about the people of springfield. in order to remain anonymous, he calls himself Mr. X.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://akumajin.skyrock.com/pics/690059117.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://akumajin.skyrock.com/pics/690059117.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6035536362934730183-2450601125563906550?l=openingthecloset.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://openingthecloset.blogspot.com/feeds/2450601125563906550/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6035536362934730183&amp;postID=2450601125563906550&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6035536362934730183/posts/default/2450601125563906550'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6035536362934730183/posts/default/2450601125563906550'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://openingthecloset.blogspot.com/2007/11/about-my-blog.html' title='about my blog'/><author><name>Mr. X</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14400246646936806226</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6035536362934730183.post-7936683519460250798</id><published>2007-11-06T00:50:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2007-11-06T23:17:23.635-06:00</updated><title type='text'>welcome</title><content type='html'>I feel my heart rate slightly increasing as i begin to type this. &lt;br /&gt;I'm excited, yet aprehensive. i can't help but bite my bottom lip.&lt;br /&gt;i'm taking that next step!&lt;br /&gt;i'm finally blogging about my personal life, about that one thing that is constantly on my mind, about my big secret!&lt;br /&gt;it's the secret that i have yet to tell anyone.&lt;br /&gt;i've recently admitted it to myself just months ago. it's something that i've probably always known and i've said it several times in my head. however, i hadn't managed to say it out loud for my own ears to hear. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it was september 10th or 11th and i was driving alone in my car. the music was loud, but the thoughts whirling in my head were louder. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;This is it, &lt;/i&gt; i thought to myself. i muted the radio. the thoughts in my head continued. i brought them to life by speaking out loud.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"why is this so hard? i'm scared, but i need to take this step! i need to admit this to myself! it's something that i can say to myself in my head, but why is it so difficult to say it aloud? i think it's because i'm confused, but maybe it's because i haven't allowed myself to accept it. Is it because once i say it, it will become reality? this is something i need to do..."&lt;br /&gt;*deep breath*&lt;br /&gt;"...(quietly) i'm gay.....I'M GAY!"&lt;br /&gt;*silence!*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;i said it!&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*big sigh*&lt;br /&gt;i felt relieved! i couldnt help but smile as i wiped my eyes, which had become slightly teary.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;that was my first big step in this whole process, and now this blog is my second.&lt;br /&gt;i've been reading a few other blogs dealing with these issues, and i find them comforting and inspiring. it lets me know that i'm not alone and the only one struggling with this. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i've decided to start blogging with the hope that it will be somewhat therapeutic to type my feelings/experiences and maybe even get help/advice/words of encouragement from others in my position.&lt;br /&gt;i encourage those reading to start one of your own if you dont already have one. i've been reading other blogs for a long while before i finally decided i should make one of my own.&lt;br /&gt;so for those of you who stumble across this, please, feel free to comment.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6035536362934730183-7936683519460250798?l=openingthecloset.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://openingthecloset.blogspot.com/feeds/7936683519460250798/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6035536362934730183&amp;postID=7936683519460250798&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6035536362934730183/posts/default/7936683519460250798'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6035536362934730183/posts/default/7936683519460250798'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://openingthecloset.blogspot.com/2007/11/welcome.html' title='welcome'/><author><name>Mr. X</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14400246646936806226</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry></feed>
