Confessions of a D-List Blogger
I sat starting at my computer screen, thinking about my goals for the day. That’s when I was reminded of the way writing on my blog used to be a daily habit for me. Whatever happened to those days?
2006 is a year that comes to mind. A lot of bad things happened in my personal life that year. But a good dose of drama always equals a good dose of blogging material, and that year in particular was filled with many ups and downs.
I guess you could say that 2006 was a year I reached A-List status in the blogging world. Well, to be specific, it was just the gay blogging world. Okay, and to be even more specific, it was probably more like B-List or C-List. But hey, I was mildly popular, and that was very exciting. There were even a few times that I was at parties and somebody would recognize me.
“Aren’t you Nathan Exposed?” they’d ask, as if that was a first and last name.
I smiled proudly. “Why yes I am.” Then I’d throw my hand in the air and say, “Please no autographs people.” I was joking, of course. But it was fun and it provided a bright spot during some dark times.
Over the years, I realized how sharply critical total strangers could be. It made me withdraw and my posts slowly became less personal and less detailed. Every once in awhile, I’d provide some deep insight into who I was. But all in all, it was downhill after that and I don’t think I was ever a gay blog celebrity again.
My life is really good now, with the exception of a couple of painful events that took place recently. I plan to share them someday, but not now. Not yet.
And life has been good for awhile and I have no plans to change that. I guess happiness is less interesting to blog about. Who doesn’t love some juicy pain and suffering? We claim we don’t like drama, but as human beings, we all secretly do.
I just felt like writing this to say I’m still here. Someday I hope to be A-List. I’ll settle for B-List or C-List once again. But I want it to happen without pain or suffering this time. I’d like to be remembered as someone who had something good to say. Something kind, something thoughtful. And hopefully there will be some gem of wisdom that inspires others.
Managing Expectations
I talked to my Mom yesterday and sure enough, things didn’t go well. We’ve talked three times and the fighting continues.
She doesn’t understand why I want her to accept that I’m married to a man. She thinks it should be good enough that she loves me and accepts me as her son. And she’s correct, I’m very thankful that she accepts me as her son. But as my previous post stated, I’m not asking for special treatment. I’m merely asking for equal treatment. I want her to respect my marriage the same way she respects my brother’s marriage to his wife.
I’m managing expectations
All relationships have expectations and meeting them is very important for the health of a relationship. I have expectations of my husband, of my friends, of the people I work with.
So I’ve reached a point in my adult life that my family has fallen below my expectations. I’m no longer happy with being the Bert & Ernie at the Thanksgiving dinner table. I’m no longer willing to be the elephant in the room that makes everyone nervous about my nouns when kids are present. This little charade was tolerable in my 20s, even though it drove me crazy. But as I find myself about to enter my 30s, I’ve been evaluating my life very closely and deciding what I want to change about it.
My expectations have changed and in order to grow, I’ve requested some alterations. Will my family adapt to them? It’s too soon to say. But asking is the first step. We can’t complain about our life if we don’t take active steps to change or improve it.
Shockingly calm about everything
God forbid, this is the first sign that my testosterone is mellowing out. I remember the days when I used to get so angry and upset about things like this. I wanted to put my fist through a wall when I got mad. But I’m actually pretty calm right now. It’s not the end of the world, and I know that. My Mom will probably call back for round four, and I know that too. I’m prepared to have another heated argument or debate. It’s unpleasant, but I can handle it.
I was born gay, and I know this. I have the right to be married and to be happy. I know this too. I have an expectation from my family that I want them to provide. I see it with absolute clarity, confidence, and optimism.
It doesn’t mean I don’t love them. It doesn’t mean I’m going to stop being a part of the family. All it means is that they need to try harder.
Uncomfortable
10.17.11
12:45 AM
Dear Mom,
I’ve been thinking about my comfort level these past few days and I have some things I want to get off my chest. I don’t know if I’ll send this letter. I really don’t like to rock the boat. But I’m going to write it anyway, and then we’ll just see how I feel about sending it in the morning.
The reunion was this weekend for the relatives on your side of the family. I told you a few months ago that I really didn’t want to go because I felt like most of my relatives completely dismissed my wedding to Daniel this past April. Since they made it clear that they don’t want to be a part of our big moments as a couple, I figured there’s no point in sitting around making small talk with them.
I thought you’d protest my decision. You always used to encourage me to come to reunions. Sometimes I did so I’d make you happy. And when I didn’t come, I felt really bad about it.
But this year, you had different words. You seemed relieved and told me that was fine. “Really?” I asked in disbelief. I kept waiting for a story about how I should cherish the time we have left with our family. But instead, you confessed that you would have felt uncomfortable with introducing Daniel as my husband.
I brushed it off at first. I wouldn’t want to put you in a position that makes you uncomfortable. I sincerely mean that. I know you were uncomfortable with the wedding itself and I really am thankful that you came anyway. I know you don’t believe it, but you’ll be glad you did someday. I really know it.
This weekend, Daniel and I went to a wedding… A “gay” wedding, I guess. It was two women. One of the women lost her mother just recently. It was a very bittersweet ceremony. The emotion in the air was palpable. She didn’t get to have her mother there on her wedding day. It was such a sad emptiness right there in the middle of such a happy occasion.
And that’s why I needed you and Dad at our wedding. Even if you were uncomfortable, it still mattered for you to be there. If nothing else, I will always be able to look back at that day and say my parents were at our wedding. That’s something our friend who got married can’t say about her mom.
Okay, so 400 words in, I’m getting to the point. Comfort. You stepped out of your comfort zone, but where do we go from there? You took a giant leap forward, but you’re still uncomfortable with the whole marriage topic.
And this leads into a bigger issue — MY comfort. I walk on eggshells to make my family comfortable. I censor the things I say when I’m with the family so that I don’t make anyone uncomfortable with the fact that Daniel and I are married. I censor myself around my brothers, their kids. I go out of my way to be a watered down version of myself just to make everyone else comfortable.
But nobody ever asks me if I’m comfortable. If Daniel’s comfortable. And I’m sorry to sound ungrateful, because I know you’ve done a lot. But on the topic of comfort, I simply don’t feel like this is a relationship where we’re giving fairly.
And relationships are all about balance and fairness. This isn’t as balanced as I’d like it to be. I bet there’s never been a time in your life when you’ve hesitated to introduce Dad as your husband. I bet there’s never been a time in your life that you were relieved if my brother and his wife weren’t coming to a reunion because you were uncomfortable with saying they’re married.
I just want the same fairness that I feel entitled to. I’m not asking you to be the mascot for the next gay pride parade. I just want to be treated as an equal son, with an equal spouse, and get to have the life with my family, with my parents, that you would have given me if I married a woman. I’m not asking for anything “special,” I just want something fair. Something that makes me comfortable for a change.
I can think of half a dozen ways this letter will go awry if I send it. And the mere thought of bringing this up makes me uncomfortable… And will undoubtedly make you uncomfortable too… But hey, what’s the cost of comfort? I feel like I’m paying the price for everyone else’s comfort. When is someone going to give it back in return?
I love you,
Nathan
5 Tips for Writing a Book
Happy Halloween month everyone! My favorite holiday season is here.
I’ve been hard at work on a book project I started last year. I’m really excited about it and things are finally coming together with the writing process. I’m learning new tips and tricks to help me be more effective. I thought I’d share them on here since I know at least several of you are also working on trying to write a book.
I can’t really say these are expert tips. I haven’t even finished my book! But they helped me, so maybe they’ll help you too.
#1: Plan out your storyboards to avoid feeling blocked
It starts with one great idea. We feel so inspired thinking about how it could all play out as a book. But then when it’s time to make it happen, we feel stuck. Storyboards are a wonderful remedy for preventing writer’s block.
I use the Scrivener software for writing. It lets me plan out my chapters easily and I can write a summary for each chapter. This helps me organize my thoughts and plan the direction of the book. It’s important to know how the story is going to unfold from beginning to end. You can also do it the old fashioned way with index cards. Just plan a scene, put it on a card, and then organize the chapters into a pattern that feels right.
Once you know the general direction of the chapters, you’ll always have something to do when you sit down to write. Pick a chapter, take your idea, and turn it into a full scene. It’s much harder to feel writer’s book when you know the task at hand and have something to work with.
#2: Stop editing!
You write a paragraph. You read the paragraph. Over. And over. And over again. You edit the chapter. Over. And over. And over again. Before you know it, you’ve spent 2 hours analyzing it and you’re tired of the whole thing. This is why many people never finish their first book. They are too critical and they get too caught up in the editing process. Stop it!
Write the chapter, get the idea out there, and move on. It’s hard to resist at first, but once you train yourself, you’ll notice a big shift in how productive you are. You’ll start flying through the story and the sense of accomplishment will be so rewarding. You’ll be much more motivated to keep going. Editing is very important, but it’s better to do it once the first draft of your book is complete.
#3: Write the same way you speak
It’s a common mistake to start using complex words that aren’t part of your normal vocabulary or adding extra words to fill space. I used to believe I had to fill an imaginary quota in order to complete a chapter, so I added excessive conversations just to drag it out. Looking back, that was a horrible choice. My goal was to hit around 2,000 words per chapter, which I succeeded in doing. But the result was about 500 filler words. It made the storyline tedious and inhibited the flow.
Recently I re-wrote several chapters on blank pages. Rather than editing old material, I told the story over again exactly as I felt it. The results were amazing. It flowed like a real conversation. It felt natural and believable. When that scene was done, the chapter ended and the timing felt right. The word count was irrelevant.
#4: Use photos to make flat characters come to life
It’s very difficult to create characters using generic descriptions. This is a man, this is a woman. He’s older, she’s younger. Blah, blah, blah, what boring people. You don’t believe they are real and neither will your readers. And if your readers don’t believe they’re real, they won’t really care what happens in the storyline.
So how do you create humans? It’s a daunting task. But I’ve found an incredible shortcut that works really well for me.
I visit the website Model Mayhem and browse for people according to age, weight, height, ethnicity, etc. The site is intended to promote people for modeling work, but it’s actually a really incredible tool for writers as well.
I started out with a general idea of my characters. Then I found a model who felt right for the part and began studying their photos. How do they dress? How do they style their hair? What color are their eyes? Do they have wrinkles? A mole on their cheek? A scar?
Once I’d chosen a visual representation of my characters, it became shockingly easier to imagine these people in the storyline. There’s still some imagination and creativity involved, but this really helped get things going.
#5: Embrace the urge to tell your life story
We try very hard to write an authentic work of fiction. This isn’t an autobiography and we’d feel too vulnerable if our own life story seeped into the book. How could we ever deal with the criticism if people didn’t like the story? It’s our life, after all. So we try to make up every single last detail, and hence the disclaimer that “any similarity to those living or dead is merely a coincidence…” Again, blah, blah, blah. That’s bullshit.
Your life is going to come out in your words. If you want the story to feel real, it must have some reality to it. So go ahead and let your own life inspire the path of the book. Change details when necessary and protect the privacy of others as much as you can. Change names, tweak details, etc. Your novel doesn’t need to be a tell-all and you certainly don’t want to be sued.
But go with your gut and let a little bit of yourself shine through. It’s going to happen eventually and it will help build an emotional bond with the reader. Writing is about feeling, not just reading words on paper.
—–
I wrote this post on a whim, because I felt inspired to share it. So just as the advice above suggests, I haven’t proof-read it because I knew I’d get caught up in the details and never publish it. So please excuse any typos, and feel free to correct me. Thanks for reading. 
Fatty McFatterson
Last April, I got married. Last May, I went on a honeymoon. And then somewhere between June and September, I gained a bunch of weight.
I blame gay marriage. Those conservatives were right when they said it would ruin everything.
Now I have to grease up with a stick of butter before I put on my pants. And it probably doesn’t help that I eat the stick of butter after I’m done with it. But whatever.
I understand how weight gain works. Calories + Not enough exercise = Fatty Pants. But I still hate it.
And I’m turning 30 in two months. And my hair is thinning. And I’m hungry, goddamn it! I want a cheeseburger!
Just thought I’d put that out there. My average reader is between 40-50 years old, so I don’t expect any sympathy from anyone on the age thing or the thinning hair. And yeah, I know it’s my own fault for gaining weight. But it’s my party and I’ll cry if I want to (and then I’m eating the whole damn cake).
*NOTE: The illustration is for demonstrative purposes only. My weight gain hasn’t made me black.
Body Wax from Hell
I’ve always been curious to try body waxing, but I wasn’t brave enough.
Before I delve into this adventure, let me preface by saying that YES, I know some of you guys are jumping on the “natural hair movement.” Manscaping is going out of style and guys are once again embracing their right to have ball hair that hangs down to their ankles. If that makes you happy, I applaud you. But you’ve got your Bear Week in Provincetown where you can all run around naked and celebrate your hairiness, so shut the fuck up. I don’t want any comments from guys complaining about my interest in waxing my chest.
So as I was saying… I’ve been interested in waxing but the closest I got was a small patch of hair. It was last spring when Daniel dabbed a little bit of hot wax on my chest, ripped off maybe three hairs total, and I went running into a corner, curled up and cried. Yeah, it was awful. Body wax is Satan’s hot molten lava.
Today, I was feeling inspired and brave, so I got out the jar of Sally Hansen Express Wax. It’s white chocolate scented, for whatever that’s worth. Mmmm… It smells like I’m in a candy shop when all the delicate hairs are being ripped from my skin. How relaxing. Next time I’m at a fondue fountain, the aroma is going to trigger some deeply hidden trauma and I’ll run out of the building screaming, “It burns, it burns!!!”
That bitch on the cover acts like she’s so happy. “Hey, look how comfortable I am. I smell like white chocolate, blood, and tears, and I can’t move my arms or legs. So I’m just going to sit here and smile until I can muster up the strength to crawl into bed and die.” Yeah, it’s like that.
Despite the horrendous pain and after burn, I managed to wax most of my chest and even some of my stomach. Considering I was doing it myself, I’d say that’s pretty impressive… Especially for a guy who hardly survived having a few hairs pulled out last time he tried.
So now I can finally say that I’ve given body waxing a try. I like how it looks, but I hated the process. Ouch.
Fried Mummy Autocorrect
Daniel: Hey baby at lunch. They brought in kfc mummy. How’s your day going?
Nathan: What does fried mummy taste like? It sounds dry.
Justin Bieber Comes Out
…As a lesbian!
C’mon, this is just too much, Biebmyster! I understand you’re part of a progressive new generation that blurs the lines of gender. And I applaud you for refusing to conform to society’s restrictions. But I don’t think you could look any more like a dyke if you tried. I bet you drive a Range Rover and have a Golden Retriever named Daisy, don’t you?
I support you in your lesbianism and hope you have a wonderful future with Selena. Bieber is the new flannel.
Ask Justin Yermouth: Trendy Trannies
- Dear Justin,
Why do women celebrities over the age of 40 look like trannies? Is that the new trend in Hollywood?
Curious Carol
Oh, Carol, you catty cunt! Of course it’s the latest trend! Hollywood’s most glamorous cumdumps want lips that look like a vagina, cheekbones that look like Skeletor, and veiny hands like Madonna’s. Trendy Trannies are the new black!
But in all seriousness, I don’t think any of them realize how trannytragic they look. Hollywood is a soul sucking force of nature that pressures everyone to look the same. All you have to do is spend a few days there, surrounded by people who have their chins lifted up to their foreheads, and eventually you’ll feel like the oddball for not looking like them!
I’ve noticed the tranny phase too and I can’t wait for it to end. Lay off all the crack in your 20s and maybe you won’t need so much surgery in your 40s, you mutant looking bitches!
Cuddles,
Justin
Why Don’t You Get a Job?
I thought finding a job was my own responsibility. Was I wrong?
Thousands of unemployed Americans are angry. I get it. Being unemployed sucks. I’ve been unemployed before and I know that gut wrenching fear of not being able to make it through the month.
But I guess I’m confused when unemployed voters show up to an Obama rally and ask, “Hey Mr. President, when are you going to give me a job?”
Ummm… What? I wasn’t aware that it was the President’s responsibility to give everyone a job. Meanwhile, crazy pants Michele Bachmann is riding the Tea Party Express around America, promising her minions of dumbass supporters that she’s going to give them jobs. Ummm… How?
Finding a job is hard work. It’s not supposed to be easy. And the job market seems to be shrinking, which means you really have to be good at what you do in order to beat out your competition. But isn’t that just survival of the fittest?
I don’t know, maybe I just see the world differently. I don’t think we should expect a President to give us all jobs. Expect him to improve conditions? Sure, I’m all on board with that. But as for actually handing me a job on a platter, that’s never happened… And why should it? If getting a job were as easy as just asking for it, there would be nothing to work for.
