Tuesday, August 31, 2010

Cooking with the Stars: Pineapple Chicken Curry

Saturday, the gang from True Blood brought over the ‘fixins for Pineapple Chicken Curry.


Despite many pleas, no human blood was used in this recipe. That’s not to say, there was no blood involved…

…let’s just say that Tracy Morgan got a little gung ho when we asked him to cut the pineapple.


Also, for whatever reason, he thought it was a costume party, so he showed up dressed as The Bride from Kill Bill. He really is as crazy as his character on 30 Rock.

Neil Patrick Harris proved himself—yet again—a superstar.


He really has a talent for gaying things up with garnish. Add that to your resume along with those twin Emmys.

Now for the big test. Let’s ask “How Sue see’s it.”


“Now I’m not saying I won’t eat it because it’s disgusting. I won’t eat it because it’s Asian.” She’s probably not going to be invited again anytime soon after that outburst, but we do love her.

Some good news: Roseanne showed up with desert.


The bad news: she thought it was BYOD—Bring Your Own Dessert.

All in all, though, it was a great evening with everyone including Chedner (the boyfriend) and Moving Horizon. I’m glad they didn’t mind my conversation gaffe… asking NPH is he’ll have my babies. Also, if you see anybody from True Blood, ask them if they know where Roseanne is.

From start to finish:

Glee Withdrawals #3

Yay, Jane Lynch on your Emmy win. Classy and nice as ever:

Food for Thought #18

Mary Oliver

“Tell me, what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?”

-- Mary Oliver

Monday, August 30, 2010

Food for Thought #17

Octavio Paz

“Wisdom lies neither in fixity nor in change, but in the dialectic between the two.”

-- Octavio Paz

Friday, August 27, 2010

Food for Thought #16

Jane Austen

“Because they were fond of reading, she fancied them satirical.”

-- Jane Austen

Thursday, August 26, 2010

Food for Thought #15


More vinyl wisdom:

“I will tell you something about stories…
They aren’t just entertainment.
Don’t be fooled.
They are all we have.”

-- Leslie Silko

Wednesday, August 25, 2010

Hold, Part 6


Without a hitch, the performances went on as planned.  A couple of months of singing and dancing rehearsals with the  conventional stresses finally paid off as they should.  Variant threads of talent came together for three consecutive nights of an unfamiliar excitement.  Quite unexpectedly, things went much better than I’d expected.  The dances and the musical numbers, though far from perfect, became that adrenaline rush that left me on a high unique, but not superior to the one’s I had experienced in my life.

Following the opening night performance, I received a surprise—one that in retrospect seems more like a link in a chain of surprises. 

Recently, I’d received an unexpected message on Connexion (my preferred gay dating site):

I’m pretty sure  I saw you at a few weeks ago at church.  Just wanted to say hi and let you know you weren’t the only one there.  ;)

-- Anson

My initial reaction was a complex sense of disbelief.  First, because I had felt completely alone in that meeting; and second, because Anson happened to be the most gorgeous man to pay me attention since the breakup with Mark nearly a year ago.


I thought nothing of it, especially after the conversations started to wane and performances began to pick up.  For sentimental reasons associated with Mark, I reserved the phrase “on the same page” for very special occasions and Cole knew when I used that very phrase to describe Anson that I was smitten the week of the big show.  Refreshingly, we shared the same doubts, the same insecurities, and both remained positive about life.

Having played it low-key as I attempted to manage school along with the show, and as I sorted out how I felt about dating Chandler (who, despite his sincerity, inspired relationship doubts every time he lit a cigarette), I decided to mention the performance to Anson only in passing.  For that reason, it was nearly a shock when—having never seen him in person or heard his voice—he tracked me down in the lobby.

Cautious about the surprise he pulled on me, he hovered for a few moments.  He smiled at me from afar as a throng of elderly strangers complimented the performance and offered their granddaughters’ phone numbers.  Each time I glanced over and caught his brilliant blue eyes, the post-performance excitement teemed over a bit. 

When we finally had a chance to speak, he immediately offered a hug and a simple, “You were great.”  He took delight in my ear-to-ear smile and the giddy nervousness of my posture.

“Thanks,” was all I could muster in that moment. 

In a way, I felt the universe was messing with me in the worst of too-good-to-be-true senses.  I was completely unprepared and unsure of what to make of him.  How serious could he be?  Would he do this for just anyone?  Is he the nice guy?  He admitted he dated as much as I did, leaving me even more astounded that he had put together delightful surprise , let alone that he had paid me any attention at all.

We visited for a moment before another crowd of elderly audience members offered up their supportive words.  He smiled and offered a hug enigmatic in length and pressure.  My mind whirred about as I tried unsuccessfully to precipitously understand a man I’d barely met. 


The string of surprises continued that week—an excellent grade on a paper that week, a call from a friend I hadn’t seen in months, and an impromptu date with Chandler following the final performance.  Though it felt great to see a familiar face and subtly tie romance to art as he waited outside the dressing rooms, I couldn’t escape the feeling that we were at an impasse.  I hadn’t ruled out dating him because he smoked, but rather I had made the decision not to decide. 

Reservations like that never lead anywhere, and this was no exception for us.  We enjoyed ourselves, but my attempts to be open-minded and try something new remained pretext for things not working out with anyone in the past year.  At this crossroads it seemed like there was the possibility of the opposite with Anson.  He held the same beliefs and feelings and showed concern for his own life. 

I knew what I wanted, but I didn’t know if Anson had come to a similar conclusion since he had so many romantic options available to him.  It was a matter, at that point, of keeping that option available without making it the only option—a dating suspended animation if you will.

Life rushed on and on the eve of our first date, I received another surprise via email—an opportunity that left me wondering if my life would take a new turn and romance would be placed on the backburner for a while:

“GMB—We are pleased to announce that you have been selected to volunteer in the Ministry of Education (MINEDUC)’s Teach English Program….”


End of Series.

Food for Thought #14

Julia Alvarez

Another quote from work.  (Click to for a closer view).

“I find that the most exciting things happen in the realm of the hyphen—the place where two worlds collide or blend together.” 

-- Julia Alvarez

Glee Withdrawals #2

From a ssn. 2 photo shoot:

A nice distraction from hours of vocabulary studies.

Tuesday, August 24, 2010

Food for Thought #13

A new addition to my office:


Sometimes vinyl lettering goes from tacky to profound.

Sunday, August 22, 2010

Glee Withdrawals

Taking a page from my boyfriend's playbook (who loves his puns), I've decided it's time to in-glee-tiate myself with the masses with some Glee-based posts. Here's a "How to" video with one particularly fine moment involving rope.

Friday, August 20, 2010

Food for Thought #12

With the recent, very unexpected passing of a colleague, these words came across my desk: 

Rosowski Quote

It only felt right to pass them on.

Thursday, August 19, 2010

Food for Thought #12

Two words: visual poem.

Courtesy of Cole

Wednesday, August 18, 2010

Food for Thought #11


Brilliance reposted from Sine Logicum.

Tuesday, August 17, 2010

Food for Thought #10

My missionary trainer often spoke of other denominations picking and choosing which biblical doctrines they followed while we had a living prophet to provide revelation for us as needed. I flashed back when I saw this tweet on JoeMyGod:

I tend to believe that MoHos (Mormon Homosexuals) are in a similar situation. There comes a point for many in which we begin picking and choosing what principles from the religion we’ll live and which are too contrary to our happiness.

I tend to think the best option is to make choices with purpose and integrity.

Embarrassing Things That Make Me Cry #5


I suppose this is partly inspired by the Mexican Supreme Court decision (not a phrase I utter everyday), but I’ve been thinking a lot about kids lately. More and more, I’m of the mindset that adoption should be in the mind of the guy I end up with.

Since I was adopted and I see it as a part of my future, I just thought I’d share some emotionality this week. When I first saw it, I honestly couldn’t stop crying 15 minutes after the movie (something that’s never happened before or since). Here’s an un-spoilery clip, though the ending’s very good:

Man Harem Anticlimax

I made a sad discovery about my beloved David Tennant.  He’s not nearly as attractive with an American accent.


American accent:

(a 2.2 out of Sex-ay)


Scottish Accent (stripped of the Doctor Who costume for the sake of a controlled variable):

(a full SEX-AY out of Sex-ay). 


In all serious, though, I think Tennant’s real problem in not succeeding with the American show was a weakly-premiced show because he carries any role he’s given above and beyond the call of duty, though the un-sexy American accent surely did play a role.

Monday, August 16, 2010

Hold, Part 5

Something New

First impressions do hold the legendary power attributed to them.  Perhaps it goes back to visceral reactions to primordial times in which survival was on the line, or perhaps we’ve grown more dependent upon empirical observations over time. 

In the case of Chandler, good feelings were abound in those first moments after Clark introduced us.  His humor was witty and slightly self-deprecating.  Making all sorts of queer jokes or observations about himself, it was clear that he brought up his lisp or the decals on his car only because he was so comfortable with who he was. 

Throughout the conversation, Clark remained uncharacteristically silent only to shoot a glance now and then to suggest his skill as a matchmaker.  Those looks punctuated stories of Chandler’s latest adventures with his flame dame aptly named Judy.  They worked together at a restaurant on Bear Lake and had their own language of codes and nicknames for the regulars such as “Spinach Salad Monster” (who took total offense at any lettuce particles in her salad) and “PB and J minus the B” (who enjoyed his pizza with raspberry jelly).

Bear Lake

Though he was my age, he had this boyish charm to him.  His stories seemed to be out of an eighties coming-of-age movie set in a resort town—the type with just the adventures and lessons I’d like to share.

That first impression came into question as Chandler offered me a cigarette.  As I recall, it was the first time this had ever happened to me in my 24 years of life.  I wasn’t offended, but shocked the way anybody is with firsts of that kind.  I’d declined multiple offers of alcohol and found Chandler’s offer a sort of psychological impasse.  Unlike coffee or even alcohol, smoking was one of those things I knew I’d never try nor want to try.  Did I really want to date a smoker or know what an ash tray tasted like?

Over the coming week, my mind was stuck on the issue along with the resolution of trying new things, to which Clark had committed me. 

“Alright, Clark, one date,” I told him.

Excited that his prospects as gay matchmaker remained intact, he passed on the good news that I’d set some time aside for a date between another week of rehearsals. 

Between dance rehearsals of “Into the Fire” and “Put on Your Sunday Clothes,” I spent my last free night off before performance week trying something new. 

Juniper Takeout

The date went well.  Dinner at my favorite local restaurant, great conversation about past relationships including the one woman he still considers the first love of his live, an attempt to educate me in the beauty of country music other than “Earl’s Gotta Die.”  That said, the most memorable part of the night was a simmering curiosity: if he’s good in all of these other ways, just how much will the smoking affect my kissing sensibilities. 

Talking in his car, my eye wandered to the gum, the toothbrush, the mouthwash, etc. all ready in waiting for a refresher.  He was very candid about the setup:

“I learned a long time ago that it’s nothing I’ll be able to get over unless I want to get over it.  I won’t do it for anybody else.”

“It’s good that you would want to do something for the right reason, but I do wonder why you still smoke.”

“I had quit, but nerves got the better of me.  I started after my last breakup.  I had something to fall back on when I needed.   It’s not healthy in this sense or the health one, but it works for me and that’s what’s important.”


I was happy he saw through his self-delusion, but disconcerted that he saw no way out of his dependence.  In the end, my curiosity got the better of me and we kissed (following his best self-conscious cleaning efforts), though I doubt I would have held back were he not a smoker.

Pulling away from our embrace in the seat of his car, I looked into his large blue eyes. As he turned and sighed, I felt the cool satisfying air pulled across the most sensitive parts of my neck.  We lay there for a moment in repose—his hands against by now-relaxed shoulders, his head on my heart as if to overhear a verdict being discussed on the other side.  The preceding moments of physicality were some of the best I’d ever experienced, but dulled constantly by the thought, “This would be so much better without that taste.”

End, Part 5.

Man Harem Inductee #4

Dev Patel


Let’s face it: the only highlight of Avatar: The Last Airbender was this guy.  The acting and writing was just plain terrible (esp. in the case of Aasif Mandvi—too serious for such a comedic actor).  Were the acting at least bearable, the only way to salvage the movie would be an additional 45 minutes, but I hear most of the test audiences just didn’t survive that experience.


As I mentioned, this guy is an exception mostly because of my little crush.  Who couldn’t love this guy after Slumdog Millionaire made even a game show into a fairy tale romance?  Now that it looks like there’s no plans to finish the series and imdb doesn’t have any upcoming movies on his profile, I’m not sure where I’ll get my Dev fix unless he happens to show up at my local Indian restaurant. 


MoHo Map Update: Friends/Family/Supporters

For my ally friends out there and LGBT friends of other faiths, we’ve updated our support network to include you:

Friends and Supporters

We hope that this feature will slowly help a community grow closer, and more importantly provide a way for those who are facing particularly difficult times to reach out and find the help that you need or offer what you have to help someone else in need.   To participate, just click on the “How to Join” link at

MoHo Map

Food for Thought #9


I often feel that this is closer to my life and that I’m totally fine with that.  There’s nothing more endearing than imperfection standing side-by-side with perfection.

Monday, August 9, 2010

Hold, Part 4

Spring Break

Spring Break had arrived, but neither of those words really described that week away from school.  In Utah, “Spring” doesn’t tend to arrive until well after the so-named term has ended.  Due to a furlough, I wasn’t allowed to work; however, my advisor shattered any notion of a “break” with an announcement: “This week would be the perfect time for me to complete the first complete draft of my thesis.  It would also be a good time to work on that application you were telling me about.”

I suppose in terms of work involving research this move was somewhat preemptive on her part.  If I was working on a new draft, she didn’t have anything to review during her Spring Break.  Filing that move away for later and giving up any notions of road trips to Cali or Mexican cruises, I made plans for my week away.

Spring Break

A month or so prior, a case of serious flirtation quickly devolved into “let’s be friends” when he realized I’d dated his ex.  We’d hung out a handful of times and got along fairly well.

“Why don’t you come over and help me housesit for the break,” Clark suggested after I mentioned my Spring Break situation responding to a friendly “how are you?” text—the type he tended to send when things were really slow at work and he wasn’t in a relationship.  “It’ll be nice to have someone to talk to for a few days.”

“As long as I get a good ten hours of alone time for a couple days, I think everything will work out,” I responded.

The time arrived and everything was going according to plan.  Clark and I were both in a place we could enjoy each other’s company and have deep conversations as I attempted to continue my relationship fast.  He’d leave early in the morning to go to the call center and make it back in the early evening after teaching modern dance classes at the community center.  I spent my day writing, reading, and revising in the den, occasionally venturing out for rehearsals for the upcoming show.

It was like playing house in very practical terms.  We created for ourselves a routine before spending time together talking about our day over a home-cooked meal or takeout.  Perhaps the joy that this routine inspired was some sort of nostalgia for being a missionary again or anticipation of a glorified relationship end-point.  Whatever the case, it felt good in that moment.  No matter how hot a guy might be, if conversation and companionship were not part of the equation, it almost certainly spelled out doom for any possible future.

As the break wrapped up, Clark cornered me in conversation as we were having tea in the kitchen before calling it a night, “So why are you on this dating fast you mentioned?”

“I guess the simple answer is I needed change,” I said looking at him from across the counter.  “I wasn’t sure if what I wanted is really what I want,” I said.  “Or maybe I’m not sure if how I live is how I want to keep living.”

He grasped the counter with his lanky arms in order to steady himself as he leaned back a bit.  Looking me straight in the eye, he countered, “I get needing me time, but putting life on hold indefinitely?  Sure, I needed that after things didn’t work out with Evan, but I think you’ll never know until you try something different.”

“That’s why I’ve decided I need time away from here.”

“Here as in?”

“As in Logan.  I feel like I’m trapped in my hometown.”


He leaned forward with the expression of “I see” written across his face.  “Hence that application you’ve been working on?” he coyly posited.

“Teaching English overseas seems to be a great opportunity to re-center myself.  It’s volunteer work, so it would be an opportunity to do something selfless after a year puzzling over myself.”

“In the meantime, you need to live.  Experiment and live in the moment.”

It made sense coming from his modern dance background.  There certainly was something to listening to one’s self in the moment and expressing it openly, though my calculated, austere exterior seldom permitted it.

“Okay,” I said, my head tilting slightly.  “And how would you suggest I do that?”

The left side of his face lifted to form a not-so-subtle smirk.  “Actually, I’d like to set you up with a friend of mine….”

End, Part 4.

Sunday, August 1, 2010

Food for Thought #8

JonJon posted this video which got me thinking:


For those of you who know me personally, I’m a fairly social person with a network stretching across Utah.  For a long time, the only moments I spent by myself were the moments before I fell asleep in bed. 

Life’s slowed down a bit in the best of ways and though I’m happily coupled I’m beginning to think I’m having trouble enjoying the time I’m alone.  I spend so much time thinking by myself as I study, as I go to the gym, and as I drive to meetings and dates.  Thinking so much keeps me in analysis mode rather than enjoying  those moments and the rest of life, especially those moments alone with my head on my pillow staring at the ceiling. 

It’s possibly time to reexamine my moments alone.  

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