There is a lot in this here blog that must be retired. Old heartbreak, ancient adventures, terrible grammar, and silly inanity. Also, having a more public job merits the internet filtering.

However, please don’t leave my life. I’m starting fresh at smashless.com. It’s a password protected site, so let me know if you want in. The good, the bad, the stupid, the dumb – it’ll all be there. Just like old times. But with more privacy. This means you’ll get more of me with increased frequency.

Does this new start with my cloak of privacy mean I have grown up? Probably. Let’s grow old together! Shoot me an email at gimmesome [at] smashless.com and I’ll add you to my registered users.  I hope to hear from you on the dark side. Darksied. Heh.

Only my queer community could convince me to set an alarm on a day off.  But, I did, and I marched myself and my camera downtown to watch the Pride Parade and followed it to Seattle Center to party with my people. And I don’t mean ‘my people’ in some co-optive and evil way. I truly mean my people. I did it for my Uncle and my Grandpa and for a few hearts I may have broken along the way.

Seattle Pride is an interesting event. I should admit that my perception of Pride is almost entirely shaped by my four years as a Capitol Hill resident. For the unaware and non-Seattleites, you should come to my neighborhood. No, really, it’s a lot of fun. It is considered colorful and fun for a reason: two blocks away from me is a weekly drag revue at Julia’s, a few more blocks down Broadway is Neighbours (a gay nightclub), and let’s not forget the famous Babeland to give you a taste of my ‘hood.

There is a reason why I chose this neighborhood. Besides allowing my environmental footprint to be tiny (no car, what what!), the diversity and eccentricity is my fuel. I need my surroundings to be as plugged-in and energized as I am. There is no doubt that I cherish where I live. It’s vibrant, it’s fun, and it’s comfortable for me.

But, I digress. Back to the Parade: yes, the corporate floats were lame. Everyone from Wells Fargo Bank to Miller Lite was there. But there was also a lot of authentic community celebrating and bonding. There were families and leather daddies and Dykes on Bikes, and everyone in between. But don’t take my word for it – come join me next year!

Now, you may find yourself scratching your head as a reaction to confusion. What do I mean with this ‘tits’ business? That’s the funny thing, I don’t know either. Change always has the same potential as a coin flip – It can either go well, or it can go bad.

(sidenote: Timm told me that ‘tits’ meant good. I disagree. Maybe it’s because I have ‘em.)

My LSAT score was terrible. The worst. It was lower than any of the gazillion practice tests I took at home. And I can’t decide what to do, beyond trying to rebuild my pride. Is this a sign? Should I take it again? Do I want to invest $2,000 in a prep course? Time will tell, kittens.

As graduation looms ahead, what is my game plan? Those damn crossroads are just ahead, waving like heat rays from a black, deserted highway. I can see it, I can feel it, I can even taste it: the panic, the fear, the hope.

All in all, life will work out. It always does. In the meantime, I have to learn how to sit tight and not mentally box myself into PANICHOLYSHIT mode. I’m no fun to be around when my thoughts are looped on how much life sucks and how it will never work out right unless you beat all options into a figurative bloody pulp. Look at me, maturing and shit.

To ensure this post does not get dismissed with cacophonous yawns and eye rolling, here is a video that made me cry those perfect, giant,  streaming tears of laughter.

Kidding.

In other news, my official LSAT studying begins at the end of this month. The big day is September 26, so I’ll have two months of intensive, hair-pulling study sessions. Or my preparation will be a last-minute rush to figure out all the stupid logic games because I was too lazy to discipline myself to pouring over the study guide. Who am I kidding, it will most likely be the latter.

So how are your summers going? And why have we not hung out yet? Yes, I’m looking at you.

Oh, these damn butterflies – the unrelenting fluttering and quake in my stomach – make me want to curl up under my desk and wish this biochemical psychological shitstorm away.

This high level of anxiousness makes me ready for battle. But, for what? Why am I in this state today?

I think this is my body’s way of craving adventure. I’ve been hiding under rocks, under blankets, and under books. Perhaps this sudden wave of tension is my brain telling me to get out and experience that scary, weird world out there.

It’s not for lack of things to say. It’s almost as if I’ve forgotten how to say the things that are on my mind. I’ve been wrapped up in my head. Is it the looming 3-0 in July? Is it contentment? I’m not sure.

I’ve been obsessed with my future. School knocked my confidence this quarter. I signed up for a logic class to prepare for the LSAT. NOTHING has made me feel so dumb and so inadequate in all my life. My epic failure made me wonder if I’m even cut out for the cut-throat world of law. And what the hell makes me so damn confident that I’ll be able to right the wrongs in the world? Blind optimism? No, that’s not my style. Stubbornness? Most likely.

So now, faced with graduation hoovering in the near future and a summer filled with GRE and LSAT preparations, I’m having a crisis of faith. Faith in my abilities, faith in the economy, faith in success. What does it all mean, anyway?

Existential ponderings aside, I’m happy. Like, really really happy. Unfortunately this has resulted in a decreased need for friends. All of a sudden I’ve looked around and realized that I have stopped fostering and nuturing my friendships. I’m not sure what this means, or how it makes me feel. Lonely, disenfranchised, disappointed, or pleased? Who knows – probably all of the above.

No, you aren’t the only one who didn’t know about it.

We want to get married for intensely personal reasons, but rest assured they are born out of deep love and commitment (see: I’m not pregnant, no one needs a Green Card, etc.). We started talking about this step a while back – while we were in Berlin for his birthday in October, specifically. No date was chosen, no ring was exchanged, but an idea was hatched.

A little backstory is due, I suppose. I’ve been opposed to the idea of marriage for a while. I wondered to myself what was the point of it anyway – it doesn’t prevent heartache, or dissolution of relationships, or guarantee security in this fluid and unpredictable world. Plus, I’ve considered it an institution which privileges heterosexuals, and I can’t really get behind such a discriminatory notion.

Two things changed, forcing me to reconsider my position: Prop 8 and falling in love. Yes, I know Prop 8 wasn’t a win in California. But it did get me wondering what all the fuss was about (beyond the idea that *gasp* everyone should have equal access to state-sanctioned unions, if they choose to). It made me reconsider what marriage really is and why it was worth the fight. I have since concluded that it essentially a demarcation and symbol of a bond between two people. Whether it is love-driven, tradition-driven, situation-driven, etc., it is a way of shaking your collective fists to the world and saying “Fuck you, we’re stronger than you. I double-dog dare you to hurt my partner. I will knife you, so say we all.” That’s my take, anyway.

The falling in love part needs no explanation.

Oh, here’s a photo. It is intentionally unprofessional and casual, as we felt this was ultimately about us (we are, in every sense of being, casual and laidback), but it oozes the happiness we felt and the solidarity we exhibited in that courtroom to our families, to our friends, and to each other. That is why on a cold October night in Berlin, after three months of long-distance dating, we knew this is where our lives were heading. And it wasn’t scary at all.

(peeps: Zach, Drew, me, Justin, and Kat [sister-in-law has a weirdly awesome ring to it]. Photo by Judge Kato, the most awesome and personable Judge I’ve ever met. Not that I’ve met a lot, but you get the gist.)

The next day was my Grandpa’s birthday. I drove down to Gig Harbor to visit him in the aftercare facility* and answered his casual “What have you been up to during Spring Break” question with a nonchalant “I got married and went to the Space Needle.” It was priceless.

* This merits an entirely different post. It’s emotional, so it may take me a while. Apologies.

As always, the holidays have been a bit dicey. I found out that while I was in Denmark my Grandpa was diagnosed with stage IIIa lung cancer and had his second chemo treatment on Christmas eve. Cancer is always a bitch to deal with, but when it rains down on a man who has basically been a father to you, it feels like a sucker punch. He’s dealing with it like a trooper, so I guess I have to as well.

New Years Eve should be a lot better, ushering in a new chapter of my life. Drew and I will be making the harrowing drive up from the Bay Area with some of his stuff in a van, so think happy thoughts for us. Also, think happy thoughts for clear roads as I have to be back in class the morning of January 5th.

Anyway, I would’ve hoped for a more eloquent and thought-proving update, but my feet are a bit numb and my mind is currently a bit blown by a very welcomed blast from the past, so I’ll post more when I come down.

It’s good for me to be in a country that isn’t super accessible to English speakers. I have Denmark and Berlin to thank for warping my fragile mind into thinking every EU country is cool with it. It’s arrogant, and I’m glad to have that notion challenged. It’s a difficult city to navigate because of this language barrier (and even character barrier – I can’t quite grasp what all the letters sound like), but sometimes being lost and confused is a good thing.

Also, there is something to be said for a city that was untouched by WWII. There is a definite aged quality to Prague, something markedly different than the other European cities. Both the people and the buildings have a distinctive weathered and charming character. I’m staying in a cool little hostel 20 meters away from Kostel Matky Boží před Týnem which is an incredible sight and sound to wake up to in the morning. This afternoon I will go frolic in Malá Strana to blow some time before the Prague Royal Orchestra performance.

As I bid farewell to Europe in such a grand, epic way, I’m grateful for all the steps that got me here: deciding to go back to school, deciding to study abroad, all my friends who helped me edit my essay to apply for the Denmark program, and to myself for being a brave and somewhat reckless person who never thinks risks through all the way. I’m worried about going home to such poor economic conditions while racking up more student loan debt, but fuck it – this has been worth it.

Anyway, off I go. Besitos to you all.

First, I wasn’t aware/spaced out/totally forgot that I have an oral exam on Friday. And this ORAL EXAM (egads) is in front of more than one person. I am guessing that this project really does resemble a Masters thesis with each passing day. I’m not sure what to expect, but here’s to hoping that it isn’t a total disaster. I need any luck you can spare, as I’m woefully unprepared.

Second, I booked tickets to go to the Prague Royal Orchestra next Tuesday. It seems like one of the ways to mesh two loves: cellos and castles. The concert is in St. George’s Basilica, which is located in Prague Castle. Beyond the concert, I have no plans for Prague, so any suggestions are welcome. Plus, I’ll be traveling alone so I have no ones agenda holding me down.

Third, I’ll be back in Seattle on Thursday, so let’s meet up for coffee or something. I’m really excited to be back, and am a bit surprised it’s already time to come home.

Lastly, while it’s something I don’t really talk about here (or with anyone, really) I just wanted to brag for a minute that December is my 5th month of sobriety. Being in Europe without drinking has been really difficult, but totally worth the struggle. I know the holidays are really rough on me and typically a time to get blackout-drunk. Since I know other folks have a similar distaste for these days, I’d like to try to make it a more positive time for me and my people. Cookie and tea parties, anyone?