Kudos to Caitlyn

The only reputable person to come out of that whole K clan just gained a lot more respect from myself and the world.

The magazine cover seen 'round the globe: Introducing Caitlyn Jenner!

Caitlyn Jenner in Vanity Fair

Kudos to anyone who is brave enough to come out and be who they really are in front of a world that doesn't totally understand you. As I said in Dancing in My Underwear:

"...if you don't like something about yourself, then change it. Make the effort to embrace what you truly want to be. Be who you really are. Life is too damn short to live under somebody else's rules or to give a high holy hell as to what other people think you should be. Embrace yourself: you've only got one of you."


My hat's off to you, Ms. Jenner. 

Ireland

Tomorrow the small island nation is about to make history: Ireland is to hold the world's first national referendum on marriage equality.

Friday, May 22, inhabitants of the Emerald Isle will decide if they will become the first country on the planet to allow for same sex marriage through a popular vote. 

Voters will be choosing whether the Constitution of Ireland should be changed to extend civil marriage rights to same-sex couples. The proposed amendment to article 41 is the insertion of the line: “Marriage may be contracted in accordance with law by two persons without distinction as to their sex.” The Irish version reads: “Féadfaidh beirt, gan beann ar a ngnéas, conradh pósta a dhéanamh de réir dlí.”

If successful, gay people could begin marrying and close the 20 or so legal gaps left open by the civil partnerships that currently exist for LGBTQIA couples in Ireland. (Like having full parental rights for a child raised by two same sex couples and full adoption and surrogacy rights.)

The "Yes" vote camp has had numerous victories in the months leading up to tomorrow, including every single major polling source on line and on earth giving a firm nod of victory to the supporters of same sex marriage. The Taoisearch (Prime Minister), Enda Kenney, as well as the Irish President, Michael D Higgins, support a yes vote. An onslaught of Irish celebrities support a "Yes" vote as well, including most recently Bono and Colin Farrell.

Why is this such a significant day for marriage equality and the rights of LGBTQIA people? Because it's never been done before. Up until now, marriage equality has almost always been made the law of the land by one or several branches of the respected nation's governments: Either through judicial review, lawsuits, or government ruling. All 17 nations that currently have marriage equality on their books obtained it through the government versus the people.

Only in 2012 did the world see the first successful referendum of marriage equality here in the United States when Maryland, Maine, and Massachusetts voters voted in favor of allowing the freedom to marry. 

Now an entire country is challenging just how far a nation has come in acceptance. A victory in Ireland will send a ripple effect to not just everyone in Ireland, the UK, and Europe, but it will show the world that citizens can be and are tolerant of all people. Though not a member of the commonwealth, a "yes" victory would mean all of the UK and isles would have marriage equality and a victory would help enforce the message of equality to the commonwealth nations.

 

A "yes" victory means fewer and fewer English speaking countries banning marriage equality. Will a victory mean anything to the United States? Probably. We have a vast number of Irish and, specifically, Irish Catholic immigrants here that still keep ties with the old country. Often regarded as a deeply religious and conservatively Catholic nation, a victory would show the religious world, including the Vatican, that marriage equality and religion can coexist side by side. As our own Supreme Court debates and prepares to decide whether or not the freedom to marry is a constitutional right for all Americans, maybe a wink-wink, nudge-nudge from our friends across the pound might be what our 7 Catholic justices need to see in order to tip the scale of justice in our direction.

Until then, we wait with baited breath and a beacon of hope from our dear friends in Ireland. A land that will soon be known for its acceptance as the land of love, as well as its luck, and gorgeously green rolling hills.

Stop Slut Shaming!

One of Netflix' newest series, Scrotal Recall, (NOW renamed as LOVESICK) tackles head on with bells on an issue that makes most people very uncomfortable: Sexually Transmitted Illnesses. In the show, the main character Dylan learns that he has tested positive for chlamydia and feels the need to inform all of his past conquests about his ailment. Through hilarious flashbacks and scenes from the present, we see Dylan retrace his relationship steps that led him to getting "the clam" in the first place.



Sounds a little farcical, but this is a romantic comedy about doing what's right, living with your consequences, making the best out of messed up predicaments, and finding love in a myriad of uncomfortable situations. LOVESICK is, at times, gut wrenchingly hilarious, uneasy but relevant, cute, and a realistic testimony to living and loving in 2015.

I'm not completely sure about this, but I believe this could be the first series in history whose main plot revolves solely around someone obtaining an STI. Which makes me beg to ask the question: Why? Why is this the first TV show to really deal with what I'm assuming nearly all of us will go through at least once in our lives? Why don't more TV series deal with something so normal?



Maybe because we as a culture don't view sex and acquiring bugs as a result of sexual relations as "normal." Though it is my opinion that we should. I attribute this lack of coverage--pun intended--of sexually transmitted diseases to our puritanical-ism as a country and as a race. I didn't mention this before, but LOVESICK is a Scottish series set in Glasgow. I simply cannot imagine this show being set in America, and if it was, it could only take place in a city like New York: a metropolis that a lot of Americans haven't even ventured to and view as too wild, raw, and urban.

Why haven't more shows dealt with the trials and tribulations of having sex? If you dug deep enough, I bet you would find that a large majority of Americans have had at least one STD in their lives. Don't think so? How did all the millions of Americans suffering from cold and canker sores acquire these minor brands of the herpes virus? What about all the undetected HPV cases? According to two CDC reports released in 2013, 110 million Americans are living with an STD and 20 million new cases annually were expected to be reported. At a population of 360 million, that puts nearly 1 in three of us living with a previous transgression. With that many of us infected, should we really be branding anyone with a scarlet letter of disapproval?

In the words of my friend Jason:

"I'm sorry, these days If you haven't had an std--even just a small one once in your life--then you haven't lived. If you you haven't needed a shot in your ass to kill something off, then you're a loser."

Maybe this declaration is too extreme, but I happen to agree with him. If you haven't had at least one STI in your life, have you really lived? Why aren't we wearing our STDs with pride? Scoring a sexually transmitted ailment should almost be worn as a badge of honor: they state simply that we have LIVED. We've had sex. Probably with more than one person. But should that be held against us by society? And we can stop pretending only those who are reckless get into sexploits. We are all human and homosapians are naturally designed to have sex and enjoy it.



I guarantee we have all put ourselves in danger of acquiring an STI. We've all made out with someone new without the slightest concern for how nasty our mouths are and how much bacteria just naturally hang out there. Oral sex? Forget about it. Mr. Dylan from LOVESICK could have just have easily caught chlamydia from going down on a girl as having intercourse sex with one. Herpes? Gonorrhea? Meningitis? All orally able to invade!

The CDC reports an estimated 4 million new cases of chlamydia every year. While the average cost of the pill or shot for treating chlamydia is only $15, the estimated cost of complications from chlamydia can be upwards of $2 billion. Of the 20 million newly infected with an STI, half of those cases are people between the ages of 15-25. The costs of treating that many people for the duration of their lives can be as much as $16 billion or more. Aren't we doing a disservice to the younger generation by not talking about sexually transmitted illnesses and their frequency? If we would stop pretending that we don't have sex and start informing the public more about STDs because we already know they're having sex, I guarantee those numbers would be significantly less.





Why do we act like sex and STIs are something so taboo? Isn't Blanche everyone's favourite Golden Girl? Samantha everyone's favourite "sinner" In The City? At least in my crowd, these two broads are revered. Why? Because they are so unabashedly real. Sexuality is a part of life and these woman are simply open about their lives under the sheets. And on the sheets. And in the bathroom. And on the kitchen table...We love these lustful larger-than-life ladies because we secretly wish we were these women and could live out our sex lives more openly.



So stop the slut shaming. I'm not telling you to run out and go get an STI--I will always advocate for safe sex and to always get tested. But the reality is nothing in life is really that safe: Sex and relationships the least of all. Halt the judgement against your friends and yourself for craving an intimate connection with another human being. And start living. The sooner, the better.

But you might want to bring a condom.

Two Fingers in the Butt

Who knew having two fingers shoved up your back side could potentially save your life? As a gay man, I have had many experiences with the male caboose, but fingering has never been my forte, nor my favourite. I guess I've always been an all-or-nothing kinda guy when it comes to men's MUNTS. Turns out, taking a deeper look "back there" might save mine and my fellow male species' hides.

A month and a half ago during my bi-annual blood draw and checkup with my doctor, I received startling news: I had increased PSA levels found in my blood. I certainly didn't know what it meant at the time, but being told as a thirty-two-year-old that I needed to see a urologist asap startled me into submission.

Prostate-Specific Antigens (PSAs) are basically proteins created by the prostate to aid in semen development. PSAs are an essential part of our sperm, but their levels can also indicate the current condition of the prostate. As a nearly 33 year-old man, my PSA levels should have been flatlining at around level 2. Instead, mine were deemed as "elevated" for my age bracket sitting at a level 4.7.

It took several days before I could get in to see a urologist, and in that time, I did enough internet research to convince myself into thinking that I could possibly have the Big C. Considering the statistics for men when it comes to prostate issues, I had a small reason to worry.

According to the American Cancer Society and Cancer.org, Prostate Cancer is the most common type of cancer found in American men after skin cancer. An estimated 220,000+ new cases will be reported in 2015. Around 28,000 men will die from prostate cancer this year. 1 in 7 men will be diagnosed with prostate cancer during their lifetime. Prostate cancer is the second leading cause of cancer fatalities in American men, after only lung cancer. About 1 man in 38 will die of prostate cancer.

While all these stats sound daunting, there is a silver lining. Prostate cancer can be a serious illness, but most men diagnosed with prostate cancer will not die from it. In fact, more than 2.9 million men in the United States who have been diagnosed with prostate cancer at some point are still alive today. Early detection can be a key to better combating prostate issues. Getting examined can alert your doctor to early warning signs of cancer. Obtaining a second opinion is also strongly advised as well as having secondary testing. Other than having blood drawn, one of the best indications of your prostate's health is its shape and size: something that really can only be determined through a doctor getting a little fresh with his digits down under.

Having an increased PSA level can also be indicative of a few other things as well, including an infection of the prostate known as Prostatitis. Luckily for me, this was my case. Somehow I had developed a small infection in my prostrate. One further anal inspection by my urologist to verify that my butt almond was a good circumference and two weeks of antibiotics got me back right as rain. My PSA levels were back down to the 2s within a few weeks.

Having a prostate exam is not cute. I won't lie to you. It is a reasonably uncomfortable situation for all parties involved. I had never had one until recently, considering I'm typically too young to be facing any prostate related issues. Both times my doctor lubed me up and gently inserted two fingers inside of me, but the pressure and surveying of my insides with his fingers was not fun and ended up being pretty painful. Having someone your grandfather's age tell you to bend over, drop your drawers, and spread your cheeks so he can go fishing around your keister is not an enjoyable experience. It's embarrassing, it's degrading, and it leaves us in such a vulnerable position, feeling so violated, that most men would prefer to spend an eternity in baby shower/maternity class hell than have a prostate exam. 

My 80 year-old urologist's 43 years of expertise didn't make the experience of having his extremities up my back side any better. The male equivalent of the "boob check" just ain't comfortable. But in the end, my life and health is worth taking a few for my own team. If you are a male and in your late thirties or above, I highly recommend taking the plunge and having èl doctoro stick two flight-attendant-exit-indicators in your bum to check that shit (no pun intended) out. Your life could depend on it.

Madonna: Rebel Legend

Good morning and happy Madonna day!



I started off my Madonna day early, when Apple and lovely iTunes blessed me with the gift of giving me The queen of pop's new album early.

This is the 13th studio album given to us by the lady herself, and it has been interesting to me to see how many people come out of the woodwork to slam it and the 56 year old star.

And I'm just about sick of.

No one seems to give a dirty damn when Paul McCartney gets up there and embarrasses himself with a Kanye West performance. (For the record--the gods of music are cringing at those two names being put into even the same sentence together.) I find it extremely offensive and utterly sexist that Madonna constantly gets called out for how she looks, what she wears, and "how young she is trying to look." So Bob Dylan and ol' Paul "Mackers" can get up on stage looking like dried-up alligator wallets that you accidentally washed in the washing machine, but you are going to judge Madonna and her appearance?

"Oh, but they are legends," some might say.

At this point, I would call Madonna legendary.



Right about now, I think we can begin to refer to Ms. MDNA as a legend. Whether you like her or not, you've got to admit that this is the woman who has changed the face of music consistently for the last three decades.

Anything the queen of pop delivers to us in terms of new music should be listened to and respected. For me, Rebel Heart has been an interesting listen, but a valid one that solidifies, in my mind, that bitch still has what it takes and is still shaking the world with her edginess and originality.



Not every track in REBEL HEART is my favourite, and there are certainly some I do not care for, but isn't that every album ever bought? Rarely are CDs perfect to a T. But don't let that seem like I am dismissing the extraordinary single that is Living for Love. Tracks like Ghosttown, S.E.X., Illuminati, Hold Tight, Joan of Arc, and the album title track Rebel Heart are instant favourites upon first listen.

This isn't the typical Madge album full of non stop dance hits, though. There is depth to Rebel Heart and a vulnerability that Ms. Ciccone rarely lets us see. Songs like Heartbreak City, Joan of Arc, Wash All Over Me, and Messiah let us hear a Madonna scarred by the industry and Madonna embracing her weaknesses. This is a woman who rarely shares her fears.

We get a little contemporary silliness from her as well: Devil Pray, Bitch I'm Madonna, and Veni Vidi Vici remind us that the music we are listening to is still Madonna and she always has had an opinion and a cheeky disposition.



In short, this is Madonna. Has been Madonna. And always will be Madonna. And this Unapologetic Bitch will listen to the legend that is MADONNA as long as she keeps gracing our planet with her presence and voice.

Let us not forget of whom we speak. This is no flash in the pan pop star. This is fucking Madonna. How many countless singles of hers have changed the world or at least shook it a little off its axis?

This is the woman who wrote Holiday, Lucky Star, Erotica, Truth or Dare, Like A Virgin, Like a Prayer, Crazy for You, Ray of Light, Jump, Frozen, Borderline, Get Into the Groove, Papa Don't Preach, This Used to be My Playground, Die Another Day, Express Yourself, Hung Up, Cherish, Girl Gone Wild, Love Profusion, Sorry, Open Your Heart, Music, Beautiful Stranger, and Who's That Girl? Fucking VOGUE, for Chris'sakes!!!

So bow down and respect the artist, singer, songwriter, actress, author, mom, and businesswoman that is the extraordinary Madonna. Sit down, sit back, and enjoy Rebel Heart. It may be a bumpy ride upon take off, but it's a musical journey worth diving into.

The power of Prayer

I am not a religious person, but I would consider myself very spiritual. I believe in love and the energy surrounding love. Energy is very powerful and I have seen first hand what the power of positive thinking can do for people and bring to people.

Recently I came home from a holiday to find my ferret, Xavier Montague Tudor Paco Ferret I, near death: his body temperature was so low that he almost died. Xavier is an older ferret--they only live to be between five and eight years old. He also suffers from Insulinoma, a ferret-like diabetes, and lymphoma-- a cancer of the ferret lymph nodes. He also has developed arthritis, which has made it harder for him to get around and play, as of late. So it is no surprise to me that my little X is nearing the end of his life at age 6 and with all of these health problems. But he is also a fighter, like his father, and neither of us were ready to let go.



I knew that Xavier needed immediate medical attention, which I got him, but realized that his little life was hanging on by a thread. I admitted him into the ICU overnight for two nights, and I cannot tell you how devastated I was to come home to an empty house for the first time in 5 years. I didn't know what to do. I was distraught, upset, depressed, begged God not to take him too soon from me.

I cried so hard at the possibility of losing him. Sure, he is just a small little mammal, and as one person said cruelly: "He is not a person, he is just a ferret." But Xavier is more than just a pet. He is family. Those 100 people that have met him can attest to the fact that Xavier is like a little person with a big personality. He is clever, funny, wise, and mischievous. He knows his name and comes when I call him. He knows not to do something when told "no" by me--that is until I have turned my back. He kisses your face, licks the tears away when you are sad, and loves drinking water straight from my sink. A picky eater, X only eats Cheerios, almonds, and Cheez-its when it comes to eating anything other than his kibbles--which he prefers to be stale for several days. Like a cat, he hates baths, but like a puppy/kitten he loves to play, even in his old age. When he isn't going through your stuff, he is stealing your socks and making a nest for himself to sleep in under my couch out of this loot.

The day I got him back from the ICU was awful. He hated his 6 medicines a day and was literally vomiting the medicines I was trying to force feed him all over me. He was puking so much that the stomach acid was causing the roof of his mouth to burn. Being a ferret, he didn't understand the pain, so he began scratching at his mouth and gums with his claws until he began to bleed. Soon, the front of my shirt was covered in ferret vomit and blood. But all I could do was hold him tight, cry, and pray to God that he made it through the night.

So I did the only thing I could think to do, which was reach out to people. I asked for prayers and good energy to help ensure a recovery for Xavier. So I reached out to you, in TV/Interwebsland, and asked for prayers for Xavier. It may sound silly, but I think about all of my friends and the people that have met Xavier, and they probably number at least 100 people whose lives Xavier has touched in the nearly 5 1/2 years he has called me his.

And, remarkably, it worked. It turns out that X had an ulcer that he nearly died from, but one that wasn't so bad that he couldn't survive it. But the positive energy and well wishes I received not only help put me in better spirits, I really truly believe that it helped guarantee that Xavier lived.

I know that I will not have Xavier forever. But to really see how much he is loved and the people who reached out concerned for him was so beautiful that words cannot express my gratitude. I have seen first hand the power and abilities that prayer and good energy can have. The well wishes and love are what helped keep my baby around a little longer.

Now, over two weeks later, X is no longer on 6 medicines a day. He is able to walk around my place again on his own, eat on his own, and is back to being his normal mischievous self again.

We both cannot thank you enough for the outpouring of love and prayers. They seriously made such a difference in his recovery.

All my luv to you all.

Sorah the Explorer

Sorah the Explorah

"Oh my god- I love you!"

That was the first thing I can remember Sorah Lee ever saying to me. I'm pretty sure it was immediately after handing her a shot of something delicious and alcoholic before I had even gotten her first name. I blushed, not knowing how to respond to my new co-worker behind the bar's affections.

"Aw, thanks. I love you, too!" Is how I responded to this virtual stranger before m.

We giggled at our new-found friendship, and it was then that I first heard the infectious, boisterous laugh that Sorah could have trademarked, bottled, and sold in stores--it was that magical, that charming, and that endearing.

We clinked our glasses together and tossed one back in celebration of whatever event we were working that night and to-- little did we know at the time-- a friendship of five years and a connection with someone that I've never, ever felt with another person. Maybe because there will never be anyone like her again.

Sorah was an explorer. Sorah was an adventurer. She was someone--nay, perhaps the only one--who understood my extreme case of wanderlust, just as I understood her wanderlusty disposition in return. The two of us were always looking for an adventure. Always looking for a new country to visit and a cheap vacay to snatch up before they were gone. Every Wednesday when travel deals come into my email, I would scour through the amazing adventures and experiences all over the world. When I found a bargain journey that wasn't too outrageous but that seemed like a "me and Sorah fit," I would excitedly share the details with her. Most people would look at the specials and say "3 nights in a naturally heated lagoon watching Aurora Borealis at night in Iceland? No thank you!" Or: "Riding as a passenger in a cargo ship just to get to Cuba? Ridiculous!"

Sorah, on the other hand, lived for life's miscellaneous opportunities. I can just hear her now:

"Copenhagen round trip for $543?! That's crazy. I had no previous desire to go to Denmark, but for that cheap, we should just buy them! Now! $1390 for a 10 night camel escorted trip to Morocco? I'm so down! Thailand hit on the beach for $5 a night? F%}^ yeah!!!"

We really should have just bought those silly tickets--whatever they were and to whereever far away land that had suddenly become more accessible to us. But we didn't. And now there are no more travel opportunities for Sorah the Explorer and Koelen Wanderlust. It breaks my heart to think of the "what ifs" and "if onlys" that she and I could have undertaken together. What hurts the most is knowing that my fellow culture aficionado and my travel buddy has taken her last trip without me--And we will never be able to actually go on any of the crazy adventures we so dreamed about. Now that she is gone, I'm terribly sad thinking about all of the places we wanted to go to but no longer can venture to together.

It's difficult to accept that someone like Sorah is gone when they are taken from us too soon. Death is never easy, but losing someone as magnificent as Sorah Lee is truly a devastating loss to all of humanity. She was like a beautiful flower that was always in full bloom all year long. Her personality was warm and hilarious--she never missed a beat with her devilish wit or cheeky sense of humor. Probably because she was one of the smartest people I have ever met. She was well read and well traveled, but Sorah was also what I would call well-peopled. She loved everyone from all walks of life, loved exploring new cultures, and loved making new friends all over the world. Like the colonial British Empire before her, the sun never sets on the vast network of Sorah's family all over the world.

Her zest for life was so infectious that people just wanted to be around her, like I did. Sure she was open, kind, and intelligent, but I feel what really drew people into her was this aurora and energy that she had that can never be substituted or replaced.
She was a stalwart friend and a fierce ally who always concerned herself with what was going on in your life. Sorah loved people and was always invested in their lives. She was proactive and championed equality for everyone including supporting myself and lgbt rights in her home state of Oklahoma and in the US.

Sorah had insisted nearly every time that my mother visited California that she wanted to meet the matriarch of my family. One of our last times hanging out ever, as it turns out, was a lunch on the boardwalk in Venice just so Sorah had the chance to meet my mother. We stopped and inhaled vapors at an all vapor bar after we ate--something none of the three of us wanderlusters had ever experienced before. Upon saying goodbye, Sorah leaned in to my mother to give her a big hug.

"It was so great to finally meet you," Sorah said to my mom, as if the two of them had been pen pals for years before finally arranging a meeting. My mom was thrilled to have met her, and said of my friend that she was "neat", "special", and that she "seemed like she is an incredible woman."

My mum couldn't have nailed it on the head any better: Sorah was special. And was an incredible woman. As we said goodbye to Venice and our lovely lunch, Sorah grabbed me, hugged me, and reiterated the same first words she had said when we first met:

"I love you!"

I only had 5 years with my friend Sorah, and I realize that our time was cut way too short now that she has passed. Can any of this writing actually summarize who my dearly departed friend was and the impact she made on my life and the countless amount of others? Are there enough words to describe the writer, the warrior, the compassionate, the hilarious, the wise, the sensitive, the conscious, the healer, the guidance counselor, the friend, the lover, the daughter, the traveler, the adventurer, the best friend, the confident, and the amazing being that was Sorah the Explorer? I don't think there are enough words or enough tears to bring her back. Or to begin to illustrate what this world has lost now that she is gone.

All that is left now is the immense amount of love and affection that she gave toward everyone in her life and an extreme sadness felt by those once warmed by her light. She made every moment that she was in my life better. She was truly a person who knew how to live life for today, who knew to not take anything in life for granted, and someone who knew how to enjoy every moment that we are blessed living.

Two summers ago, I was headed to Berlin and Prague on one of my many adventures and asked my Facebook friends if they had connections in Germany or Czech Republic. It didn't shock me in the least that it was Sorah with a response when she messaged me an hour later connecting me with her friend Petra in Prague. Sorah praised Petra and said I would be in good hands contacting her.

When I finally arrived in Czech, I reached out to Petra and we agreed to meet up for some drinks. Petra, a perfect stranger that had no connection to me other than being Sorah's friend, took me out for a night in the bohemian capital that I will never forget. She and her friend lead me out to all the most gorgeous and all the best bars and places in Prague, all the while buying me cocktails the whole time--despite my insistence to the alternative! I finally had to stop and insist that I pay for at least one round of drinks. Probably because, at that point, it was way past my turn to pay and I felt guilty that here I was the American getting wined and dined all over Praha without having done anything to have earned such an amazing welcome.

Before parting ways with the ladies, I asked Petra to remind me of how she and Sorah had met. I knew that the two of them had met while on holiday in Asia, but the specs were foggy to me other than that. She reminded me of the details I had forgotten but brought to life new information that I hadn't realized about our friend:

Petra and Sorah had met in Cambodia while staying in the same hotel. Petra, without warning, got very sick while vacationing and Sorah ended up taking care of her, despite the two women being virtual strangers. Finally, Petra was nursed back to health and an unbreakable bond was formed between the two ladies.

Suddenly a lot seemed to make sense. Petra, it seems, was paying forward all of Sorah's kindness onto me. As I said, Petra and I were perfect strangers before that night that Sorah connected us both. But Petra took it upon herself to show me her world and a glorious time in Praha as a sign of her love for our mutual amiga. Obviously my new Czech friend is one hellova person herself, having been so kind and generous. But that evening just spoke volumes to me about the caliber of a person Sorah was and the people that she had in her world. I couldn't have asked for a better night, I couldn't have imagined a better hostess, and I couldn't have dreamed of any other way the universe could have unveiled itself as more beautiful than the love I witnessed that night between three star-crossed souls.

Sorah the Explorer showed me so much light in my world that I have no choice but to pay forward her intensity and passion for life and people. Her swift and sudden departure from this world is a cruel reminder that life is short. I'm truly so devastated by her loss that words cannot fill the void that remains in her wake. There is a pain in realizing the inevitable end to something and so much more anguish when that end is a friend's life taken way too soon. If I had one more chance to grab you and hug you, to travel with you, or to even take a shot of Jameson with you--knowing damn good and well I loathe but you loved whiskey-- it would make losing you forever somewhat bearable.

I haven't stopped crying in the days since I found out you are gone, my sweet Sorah. I'm sure that's the regret I feel for not being more present in your life and the regret I'll carry with me forever knowing we could have traveled together or done things differently.

"You can't cry over me forever," I can just hear her say. "Well, maybe cry just a little bit more to show me how much you really love me," She might have even followed up with as a joke.

And she would be right. I should laugh more, I should breath more, and I should stop to look around and appreciate all of the beauty in nature and the people surrounding me, just as Sorah would.

There have been many, many kind words written about my friend, Sorah Lee, since her passing. This is the message by her friend Ernesto that has stuck out to me as the most poignant:

"Life is too short ladies and gentlemen. Travel whenever you get the chance. Fall in love as much as possible, even if it's with the same person over and over again. Never let anyone stop you from doing anything. Be the person you always dreamed you would be. Have zero regrets."

In short: live more like Sorah did. Have a zest for living and make no apologies for the choices you make and how awesome you are as a person.

The last time we spoke via text, she was apologizing for missing my book release party because her long lost Panamanian friend was in town only for that night. I laughed at this excuse, because I valued it a good one but more because it was honest and just so typically Sorah. Of course she'd be having dinner with her friend from Panama on a Thursday night. Why wouldn't she? The last sms message she ever sent to me said:

"I'll text you after and see where you're at. Love you!!!!"

A few weeks later, I saw her in passing at an event we were working together. We briefly caught up with each other and discussed holiday and travel plans. We both ardently agreed that 2015 would be the year we would travel together. I looked at her before walking away and I said:

"Promise?"

"Promise!" She said. I began walking away.

"I love you, Koelen!!!" She yelled at me. I turned back to Sorah, smiled, blew her a kiss, and trodded away from her.

Little did I know that those would be the last words I would ever hear her say. But oh how they were so typically Sorah.

I love you, too.

New Year’s Revolutions

I’m one that doesn’t like to make resolutions for the new year and will continue to not do so this time around. I never saw a point in pretending to myself that I would change something within my life simply because the calendar marched forward another day. I realized a long time ago that if I really wanted to make a difference in my own life, that I needed a hellova lot more than a date to actually evolve.

I prefer the word revolutions. Because I want a dramatic and wide reaching change versus a selfish and temporary goal towards something I’ll eventually end up abandoning anyway.

If there is one single thing I have learned from 2014 is that nothing comes easy. Life has its ups and downs. And with success comes work and more work. Consequences, too.

2014 saw me accomplish a few of my dreams. I’m a bonafide published author now. (http://www.amazon.com/dp/1631923706 *shameless plug*) I fulfilled my desire to travel with my mom to Paris for her first time. I ventured back to New York for my first time in a decade accompanied by friends and my mother, as well, on her first trip to the city. Costa Rica was visited by us for the third year in a row, too. I joined a kickball team- something my non-athletic-my-whole-life-self thought I would never do. And I love it.

Out of the light, came a lot of darkness. My grandfather passed away just a few weeks ago: he was a hero of mine and the last grandparent I’ll ever have. I lost two best friends this year: One by him revealing what a complete and total shit he was by betraying me and showing his true colors of really being a detriment in my life. The other was my best friend growing up who passed away in late June at the ripe young age of 31. All were surprises to me and completely devastating to me.

I’ve lost friends and lost people, but new friends and new experiences have come around. I’ve suffered many losses in 2014 and each really have shown me how short life can be and that we are all meant to LIVE while we are here. I say in my book: “Life is short. And meant to be lived to the fullest.”

I don’t have any resolutions this year because I don’t do resolutions. Never have. Never will. But if I did, I might resolve to have a lot more sex in the new year. I didn’t quite have enough of it. And I’m going to love more. And be open more. Perhaps that will help me weather out the inevitable bad times en route to the good ones.

The revolution of me won’t be a swift one, but it’s already looking like an epic one…

To 2015 and many years and revolutions to come!

In It For The Goods

Don’t you know what’s out there in the world?

Into the Woods may as well be called “Be Careful What You Wish For,” not just because it is the story about a bunch of fairytale characters whose lives change as results of their desires, but because I simply wished much better for the Disney adaptation of this great musical and story, and I don’t feel like my dreams came true with this one.

When I walked out of the film, I thought of it as a good effort in telling a tale that I’ve seen many times before. I gave it a good solid A-. Yes, I was there with friends and my mother on Boxing Day and had a great time in a beautiful theater. Overall, the experience was rather enjoyable. But upon really reflecting upon my experience of seeing Into The Woods, I realized I wasn’t really that happy with this latest film version.

My first, biggest, and main complaint is the fact that Rob Marshall took a story and completely altered the plot and dramatically changed the ending and some of the characters. Sure, these are fairytale characters, but the musical of Into The Woods’ entire point is giving these characters that we have grown up with our entire lives depth and dimension. The musical asks: what happens after happily ever after? And the answer is not pretty.

Every one of the characters in the musical, in a selfish manner, wishes for something: to go to the ball, to have money, to be accepted, etc. The problem? Wishes have consequences. Dreams take work. And life has responsibilities.

*SPOLIER ALERT*

The original musical Into The Woods sees not one, not two, but nine people die. The wolf is killed by the baker. The narrater is sacrificed to the giant to spare the lives of everyone in the musical. Rapunzel and the baker’s wife are stomped to death by the giant. Jack’s mother is murdered for taunting the giant. The old man passes out dead after having helped the baker obtain a new cow. Little Red finds out her granny was trampled to death as well. The witch either disapates into nothingness, runs herself under the tracks of the giant, or dissolves into a pit of tar–depending on the production. Finally the giant is murdered by Jack, Little Red, the baker, and Cinderella.

The film version gave diligence to three of these deaths, though in some of the stupidest and plot-hole-edness ways I have ever seen. For some reason they made the baker’s wife fall off a cliff. We never actually see her, the baker’s wife, or Jack’s mom die, but at the very end, the baker admits to Jack that his mother is dead. Almost in a “oops, forgot to mention” type of way. Rapunzel lives, the witch disappears, and the old man was just a ghost.

I understand that the production house responsible was Walt Disney Studios and they are grasping at straws to be still considered entirely family appropriate and kid friendly. Maybe it isn’t a good idea to have half of your cast murdered off or squished and have that shown to small children. But is this really a kids movie or story in the first place? Absolutely not. This is a Sondheim piece. Let us not forget the man responsible for the lyrics to West Side Story, and the music to Sweeney Todd, Passions, Company, and Assassins. He isn’t exactly known for being kid-friendly and never has been.

So why the desire to completely alter the story? Yes, these changes don’t seem that drastic, but you are meant to leave the theater with the afore mentioned thought above: be careful what you wish for. We didn’t see *SPOLIER ALERT* Cinderella’s Prince dumping her then running off with Sleeping Beauty. Or Rapunzel’s Prince shacking up with Snow White. (I may have those inverted). In fact, the very last line in the show, following the entire cast’s decision to re-enter the words, is Cinderella singing “I wish.” Honey bear just couldn’t learn her lesson. The film version makes it seem like a place they won’t ever go to again.

My second biggest complaint with the film is that this musical is virtually an opera. It is little dialogue and a lot of music that was removed from the film. I couldn’t believe Sondheim signed off on allowing so many songs to be stricken from the show. With a musical as famous as this one with a soundtrack just as famous, why take the gamble on removing songs that have intricate plot twists interwoven into the lyrics?

Everyone of the songs tell its own story and everyone of the songs has its own life moral. Why cheat us out of some of the lessons Into The Woods is meant to teach us about life?



Third, some effects were completely lost on the film and utterly lackluster. The stage version has an awe inspiring transformation for the witch from an ugly old woman to a beautiful young lady. We didn’t see this as, God love her, Meryl is neither beautiful nor young and her transformation lackluster. Same with The Last Midnight. The witch is telling everyone to fuck off and that she is over it and out. I hardly got any joy and certainly no excitement from seeing what is arguably the finest number of the show being simplified. One of the stars of the show is THE WOODS and I just never felt the movie got that: enchantment and fear that the woods instilled. The woods represented the character’s hopes, transformations, and loss. There was nothing enchanting about the movie’s forest. I guess I just really didn’t feel the magic that you feel when seeing this show live.



Maybe Disney just wanted a cash cow. Knowing that if they made it more kid friendly and billed it as a family and holiday film, they would rack in more money. Maybe they thought re-telling of the story with a more optimistic outcome would pay off in the way they remade Alice in Wonderland and gave that story a positive outcome? The problem is, Alice’s story is already miserable: everyone in Wonderland wants to deceive and kill her, so giving her story any hope seemed logical for Disney in the new millennium. The difference? The new ending left you feeling better about life, Alice, and the original Carroll story.

That is not the case of Into The Woods, a story that many claim is an analogy for the AIDS epidemic and crisis. Changing 8 people dying to only 3 still leaves the audience feeling saddened and at a loss. We don’t know where the witch went. What happens to the remaining 4 leads? Where did the princes go? So much of the movie was left unraveled that the musical neatly cleans up in the end. Maybe because the musical ending is all too real because life isn’t pretty. Maybe there really is no happily ever after because the reality of life sinks in. The trials and tribulations of living. These are the internal questions Into The Woods the musical asks of its viewers.

The film version tries its best to be a happily ever after tale or at least wrap up in a positive way and really kind of falls flat on its face. You are meant to feel the angst of having lost the entire cast. You are supposed to feel sad and lost as a result of seeing the character’s hardships. And you are supposed to realize the very statement I have said this entire write up: be careful what you wish for. Because sometimes wishes come true with unwanted consequences.

I only wish that instead of turning this story into a money making machine, that the producers would have stayed true to the original tale- a fairytale musical with very real morals and situations. I wish…

JUST SAY NO!!! to sex

YAY! The Obama Admin and the FDA has finally lifted their ban on gay men donating blood. AWESOME!



But wait--there's a catch: homosexual males must abstain from sexual intercourse with another man for a year to be able to qualify. They argue that this is in compliance with many other country's regulations on blood donation.

I'm sorry, but who in 2015 gives up sex for a year??? A degenerate? A nun? A monk? Straight, gay, orange, blue...no one ditches doing the nasty for a year and certainly not in order to do something as small and simple like giving blood.



Lest I remind this country that we test our blood supply these days and that this new policy doesn't stop some white frat guy from banging 50 chicks without as much as a regular medical check-up before bleeds into a tube and donates. But god forbid we allow gay men, who want to contribute to the blood supply that is already in desperate need of donations and replenishing, the right to do so. How is this not being told we have to sit at the back of the bus?



God forbid you actually treat gay people like more than second class citizens, either. In a sense, being told you have to refrain from frolicking for a year in order to participate is just as bad as being you can't sit at the table with the rest of us in the first place.

The LA Lie

Reality TV and every other movie producer has made sure no one thinks the streets of Hollywood are paved in gold anymore. Not all of us Angelenos are even in the entertainment industry, either. These are truths about our city: the facts ma'am, just the facts.

With all light, there is dark. With every angel there's a demon. With every city, comes an alternative underbelly of an underworld. And the city of Angels is no exception. There is an air of deception so prevalent in the every day lives of southern Californians, you could cut it with a knife. A deceit so powerful, it can mend or end relationships.

I'm talking about

THE LA LIE

No, this is not regarding the amount of work one has had done on their faces nor the amount of trolls one owns up to having shagged in their lifetime. Nope. This bit of fibbery has nothing to do with physical appearances but more to do with physically appearing any place in an allotted amount of time. Indeed, the LA Lie is all about time and our complete and total inability to utilize it correctly in Los Angeles.

What exactly the hell am I talking about? I'm meaning the little white lies and often big black boldface tales of trickery told to cover our asses in moments of tardiness. Punctuality is no longer a virtue. It's a mirage hidden in an oasis that Angelenos never seem to find--lost in a desert sea of our own selfishness. 

How did we become such compulsive liars when it comes to making plans? I'm of the mind that this merciless mindset stems from another Angeleno trait: LA Impatience. Try being honest with a friend about being late and it always, ALWAYS backfires in our face.

"Babers- I'm gonna be 15 minutes late."

-"WHAT? 15 minutes? What am I supposed to do for that long? WAIT?!? Ugh. Let's just reschedule."-

Or:

-"Where are you? We are already so late and I don't want to be later."-

"Love, I told you I just go off work. I won't even be home for 20. Then I need to change."

-"Oh, God! KST! By the time you get ready, it'll already be 9:30 and that will only leave us 5.5 straight hours of non-stop binge drinking. Whatever. We're leaving without you."-

Despite the fact that, although you two had probably been planning whatever venture you were going on for weeks, Angelenos hate waiting. For fucking anything. And they cancel on you. At a moments notice. All for the fact that they hate waiting. 

So we lie. We twist the truth. We spin Charlotte's Webs of delicious deceit in order to cover our own asses so that we do not get cancelled on and as a way of sustaining the friendships and relationships around us. Because--after all--what's a lil lie gon' hurt?

How does one spot the LA Lie in all its luster? Well, here is a short list of lavish lies dished out by Angelenos to help you recognize the ridiculousness. This will enable to respond with a perfect: "Gurrrl, you lyin'!" In the future.

*"SEE YOU IN A FEW HOURS"

-This means you are lucky if you will see your friend at all. You might as well of asked a Brazilian to commit to an exact specific date for something.

*"I'LL BE THERE IN 30!"

-This means you're either still in the shower or haven't even jumped in yet. You've no intention of arriving in under 45.

*"JUST GOT OUTTA THE SHOWER"

-This usually mean what it says it means, though without the slightest hint of a swift departure or a punctual arrival.

*"I'M ON MY WAY!"

-Bitch- you still can't even find your wallet or your shoes!

*"SEE YOU SOON!"

-Honey you're lucky if you see me at all.

*"LOOKING FOR PARKING!"

-Traffic is a bloody nightmare and I'm scraping the bottom of the barrel for any excuse as to why I'm that much later.

*"BE THERE IN 10."

-There isn't a snowball's chance in hell that I'll see you in less than 20, but here's to dreaming!

*"PARKED!"

-I'm just barely here (if not still 3 minutes away) and I haven't found parking yet.

*"WALKING UP!"

-just parked.

*"I GOT LOST!"

-GPS and all other 2015 ways of navigating the streets suddenly stopped working--probably because my smartphone couldn't handle playing Pandora, talking on speakerphone streaming through Bluetooth, and the influx of a reloading map every 10 seconds--so I'm still 5 minutes away. Do I have time for a Starbucks quickie, too?!

*"IT WAS TODAY? SHIT! I REALLY WANTED TO GO."

-You would rather chew tree bark than go to that shit show in the first place. I mean, sure, you started to get ready, but once you realized it was funner having a underwear dance party in your living room, you knew there was no way you woulda made it anyways.

This is the LA Lie in all its glory.

You've been warned, Los Angeles. As long as cars, traffic, technology, vanity, perpetual business, and selfishness endure, the LA Lie will thrive. Either accept the fact that we are all a bunch of filthy liars or get over waiting in the first place. That's the only advice I've got.

Sorry for the bluntness--I'm just an Angeleno being honest.

A Call to Arms!

Don't get me wrong, there is a lot going on in the world today. Revolutions. Famine. Rebellions. War. Lots of war. Even here in the United States, we are at war. For the last several months we too have been a nation divided. Angry divisions over race, ethics, immigration, politics, and the media.

So much strife has built up in the last few weeks in America that people who were once allies are now enemies. Friends with similar opinions now have their individual biases exposed as a result of the constant feuding that has been going on.

Now, I'm not saying these are issues that we need to sweep under the rug or dismiss because they're items of contention. What I am asking for, though, is an armistice. A battle cry from me to you asking for us to stop the bickering, stop the fighting,and stop the assumptions.

One thing that was said to me recently rang so true, was that I don't know other people's lives. It's true: I don't know your life and your struggles. And you don't know mine. What I do know, however, is that we have one planet to share together. One small world and that's it.
I've decided to lay down my torch and pitchfork, put down my verbal guns, and walk away as unscathed as I possibly can.

Instead I've picked up a new torch. I found a new reason to be angry. A cause to be really be upset over. A war that we can all fight and one that really shouldn't divide any of us.

Will you side with me, here and now--and battle together with the rest of the troops-- in an effort to stomp out a war that we have been winning and losing for 30+ years?

AIDS

When I was a teenager, that word and those bloody initials used to stand for a punishment by death for older gay men in gay Meccas--something that had happened to them in the 80s as a result of their promiscuity. People in the Midwest were immune to this big city disease, or so I also foolishly thought. This ignorant and bigoted outlook was only personally negated for me when I lost my first friend and role model to the disease back in the early 90s.

Now, tens of my friends are living, not dying of HIV, not AIDS. 30+ million people are living with HIV around the world and nearly 36 Million people have perished of AIDS since the outbreak of the disease. AIDS continues to be the single biggest cause of death in Africa and death amongst African children between the ages of 9-19.

Since only August of 2012, the HIV transmission rates are up 132% in America. That's just two years, people, of nearly doubling the amount of transmission rates. In this country, modern scientific advancements have allowed those living with the disease to lead as normal of lives as possible. So why the onslaught of newly diagnosed people?



I attribute this to two things:

First, the fact that we have conquered the disease and have made so many advancements that it is no worse of a diagnosis than diabetes due to how little the medicines allow the disease to affect your life. This has lead to a complacency amongst out people thinking that there is no further need to irradiate an illness that "no longer kills".

Second, the stigma. Despite the fact that we watched 30+ years of this fucked up illness killing people, yet now people are living lives fully, despite the fact that ALL scientific research points out the FACT that those living with an undetectable viral load CANNOT TRANSFER the virus to anyone, and despite that fact this info and breakthrough was and is being poured out into news sources around the world, there is still so much stigma against the disease and those living with it.
Most of this is based upon ignorance.

Yesterday, in fact, I had a friend deny that the scientific research presented from thousands of agencies is not 100% correct and that those who are undetectable can transfer the disease from one person to the other. Or that living with the disease requires a cocktail of medications that have fiercely unwanted side effects. Neither of these are true. This is my point. Until we start the discussion we cannot end the stigma. Stigma is what keeps people in the closet, keeps those from receiving proper treatment, and therefore keeps the disease spreading out of fear of what it means to be branded by society as "unclean".



You may ask: what can you do to help? How can I make a difference in a world filled with so many problems?

Actually there's a lot you can do.

First, go get tested!!! I cannot stress enough how important it is to know your status and to know where you stand. If for no other reason so that you don't infect anybody else if you are positive. So that the disease and the virus ends with you. Ends with me. Because again, once you get treatment, you cannot pass a disease on to somebody else. In fact, researchers suggest that if everyone who tested positive for the HIV virus was put on meds and became undetectable, then there would be no AIDS in 10 years.



Second, and this is just as important as the first rule, is start talking about it. Have conversations with your friends: have you been tested? What's your viral load? How long is it been since your last test? Your positive – how are your meds? What does it mean to be living with HIV? Only until we engage ourselves in conversation will we ever be able to really conquer this disease and end the stigma surrounding it.

But wait, there's more! So much more. If you really want to be part of the revolution that is the changing face of medicinal treatments for the disease, then donate. Not just your money because your bank and your wallet will only cover so much. Who really has enough money to be that philanthropic these days anyways? But there are plenty of ways that you don't have to spend a dime to contribute to ending this disease. Volunteer at your local AIDS healthcare center. Join a calling tree. Help volunteer with AMFAR, AHF, and other HIV and AIDS health organizations. I didn't have the money nor the willpower to feel like I would be able to raise enough money to ride in AIDS lifecycle, so instead I volunteered as a roadie. This will cost me nothing but will help so many people and will probably change me forever. Don't want to leave the house but still feeling like you want to contribute? Then tweet! Facebook! Instagram instead! Hell, even repost this blog post. From the confines of your home, being charitable has never been so easy. Think social media doesn't really work? It does. My friends' posts on social media got me to write this post in the first place.

Talking about it and communication are the single biggest tools we have in combatting this virus and disease.

Prince Harry has issued a call to arms today to honor World AIDS Day, much in the way that I'm asking you to take up arms. He is asking everyone to reveal a secret to your friends (much in the way revealing your status is often kept a secret due to the stigma) with the hashtag #FeelNoShame attached to it. This is a campaign aiming to "raise awareness of how eradicating shame and stigma can save the lives of HIV sufferers, empowering them to seek medical support and eduction about their condition, and preventing the virus from spreading." So if all you do today is reveal a secret with #FeelNoShame next to it, then you have already helped someone else out living with their secret.



(I, too, have a secret: I was addicted to OTC pain pills for 16 years of my life. Luckily through opening up about it and sharing my secret, I am no longer a victim of my own addiction. But there were years that I struggled with telling anyone. #FeelNoShame)

In a world so big with so many problems it is hard to see that one person can make a difference. But that one person may be you, and your actions could change the future for a lot of people.

Thank you for reading.

www.amfar.org www.aidslifecycle.org
www.ahf.org